


Little Cuckoo Bird

by Consort_of_Cosmos



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: AU, Agatha - Freeform, All Arthur's Kids, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Arthur is Kind of a Jerk in This, Bastard Children, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Fem Merlin, Freya - Freeform, Genderbend, Genderbending, Genderswap, Hunith - Freeform, Infidelity, Kidfic, Lohot, Merlin is a Lady, Noncon/Dubcon It's Unclear, Raelyn, Saoirse, Unplanned Pregnancy, Uther - Freeform, Written Before Series 5, court intrigue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-14 00:24:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Consort_of_Cosmos/pseuds/Consort_of_Cosmos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She died as she lived, serving her King, and Emrys left behind five daughters. After her death they left to stay safe and now they have returned to the place of their mother's greatest triumphs and heartbreak. King Arthur has been waiting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Melancholy Birthday

"Ahh, Ahh, Agggghhhhh!" The cries echoed through the palace walls. The magic in her blood seared and made her cries a match to a banshee. The palace shuddered with each wail of pain. Two princes exchanged uneasy glances as they played in their mother's quarters. Four girls huddled in their rooms, holding onto each other praying a good outcome. An uneasy queen stared into a bleak and stormy day. The windows shuddered and the stones themselves seemed to move. Queen Gwen wanted her husband at her side, but he was not.

He was with her.

King Arthur sat on a bench outside the birthing room. Not even his status as King could admit him past those doors. Only women were allowed in. With each scream his heart wrenched further. She had not screamed this much in her previous births. The sorceress's screams grew ever more frequent. Time seemed to drag before the witch's screams died into mumbles and an infant cry replaced them. Arthur stood and slammed his fist into the door as a savage imitation of a knock. A timid midwife, a witch like her, like Merlin, stepped to meet him.

"My King, you must wait, there has been a complication."

"What sort of complication?" He snarled, the girl backed away.

"She's losing blood milord, there's nothing we can do." She whispered timidly, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Let see me her then." Arthur insisted, pulling on every ounce of his authority. He made to move toward the door but the girl stepped in his path.

"My King…" She attempted, but Arthur was having none of it.

"I will see her." He pushed past her and went in, horrified by the sight. A servant was cleaning the infant in a nearby basin; Merlin lay prostate on the birthing table. Her skin was pale and her dark hair was plastered to her snow white skin. Her blue eyes stared dully forward, her breathing as labored and many women struggled to stop the bleeding between her legs. Arthur had spent many a night stoking that hair and gazing into those eyes. Merlin looked so frail and small, then again she always did, yet within her was strength greater than any other. Even before he knew the truth, anyone could see it in the way she spoke, the way Merlin carried herself. Time and again she saved his royal arse using magic behind his back. Now his High Sorceress was dying, no magic could save her. Arthur stormed to her side and held a pale sweaty hand.

"Merlin, wake up." She was awake, but turned her head to him. No smart remarks, just truthful, honest to god fear. Her hand tightened in the mocking parody of grip. Merlin was trying to respond, to stay with him.

"The child, my daughter….." She whispered, her voice was hoarse from screaming.

"Another girl Merlin, one would think…" Arthur weakly joked, trying to amuse her. Maybe, even if she laughed once, it would be enough. Maybe things would return to the way they should be. Merlyn Emrys would stay by his side as destiny foretold.

"Arthur, I was never meant to bear you an heir. You know that. Gwen is your destiny." Her voice was growing soft. Her words did not soothe him but riled him instead.

"What if I want you as my destiny?" She chuckled weakly turning her head to the ceiling.

"You are an insufferable prat Arthur Pendragon." He pressed his face to her clammy fingers.

"Stay with me Merlin, you'll be alright." He begged. Merlin giggled a little. It was strange to see the Pendragon King beg for anything; much less the life of his ridiculously powerful maidservant. He did not laugh with her, tears slipped past his iron defenses.

"No I won't, I've known for while now. I was destined to die this day, with this child." She turned her gaze back on him. Despite everything, she managed to keep the vitality in her eyes, as if she concentrated all that was left to leave a better last look.

"No, you're going to be alright, your magic….." Arthur attempted, his grip on her hand becoming uncomfortable, as if he could anchor her to the earth by holding firm on her hand.

"It won't save me this time." She explained gravely.

"No…." He shook his head, refusing to listen.

"I'm dying Arthur." She insisted.

"No!" He shouted, kissing her hand and almost biting it in an effort to keep her.

"Please, just talk to me; I don't want our last words to be ones of hate." Merlin begged him, begged him to show her the softness of him that she had loved. Arthur bowed his head.

"Yes of course." Arthur did not accept it yet, that he was losing her. She was his other half, his soul mate. What would he do when she was gone?

"Arthur, the girls… My daughters….." Her breaths were faint now; life was draining away despite everyone's best efforts. She looked s weak as she sounded. But despite everything, Merlin made a fighting effort to hold on as long as possible.

"I'll care for them Merlin, I'll acknowledge them." He whispered desperately.

"No." Despite the weakness that reigned over the witch's voice, this command was firm.

"Why, everyone know already, even my heirs are beginning to catch on."

"I'd rather my daughters be raised as bastard wards of the king instead of his bastards. They'll just look down upon them, upon you. It will destroy your relationship with Gwen, and your boys." She whispered firmly. He wanted to argue with her, god he wanted to, but there was no more time for playful banter. She was dying, he wanted to enjoy the moments he had left with his truest love. The nurse came over holding the child and placed it in Arthur's arms. The girl looked just like her; he imagined this must have been what Merlin looked like as a babe. Dark hair, and blue eyes, the child had already ceased crying, as her sisters had done. Now the babe was content to gaze up at him.

"And the newborn, a name?"

"Saoirse." She whispered.

"Saoirse, I'll remember."

"Damn right you will, or I'll haunt you. I swear it." She joked, causing Arthur to make a sound between a laugh and a choking sob. Arthur cradled Saoirse in his arm and moved to kiss her one last time. She was exhausted and slack, but she did her best. Arthur made damn sure to make his kiss count; he knew it would be their last. He pulled away; he still needed air, even if she didn't. A rough hand, callused from sword-work stroked her cheek.

"I love you." Her voice was barely a whisper. Arthur almost let loose right there, but he settled for burying himself in her neck and whispering to her.

"I'll always love you, you know that." He told her, reassured her. She tensed when he said that but Arthur ignored it. He wanted to enjoy Merlin's presence for however long he had left with her.

"Be a good King, and a better father. Just, don't be a prat, alright?" He nodded, tears welling at his eyes. Arthur rocked her frail body which was getting colder by the second.

"Take good care of our girls."

"Of course."

"Thank you Arthur….." Then she was limp, dead.

"Merlin?" Lighting crashed as did the king's soul. He broke loose right there. He ignored the midwives and healers that had tried to save her. He wept for the woman he truly loved. Arthur pressed her cold hand to his lips, trying to hold onto her. Arthur was not sure when his fifth daughter was removed from his grasp and into the arms of a servant. But now he held the lifeless corpse of a woman he loved more than his own life. Arthur clutched her close, rocking and screaming in his pain.

X

Everything after that was fuzzy. He demanded the best funeral possible for her, he remembered that. He saw Gwen flitting around his chambers sometimes. His sons try to rouse his playful side but to no avail. The girls have not been told yet and he needed to tell them. He needed to tell them for he was responsible. The child that killed their mummy, it was a child he himself planted in her. After hours of keeping the girls in the dark, he got to his feet and trudged to the former rooms of his sorceress. Arghur stood outside the door, thinking of the many time he would know and she would answer. Her dark hair would be mussed from sleep. Merlin always slept in. Arthur nearly started weeping again, knowing that sight would never again greet him.

Still he knocked, the girls needed to know. Just as he dreaded, a sleepy Merlin was not who answered. It was the oldest of her brood, Freya. Freya, a girl of ten, looked like both of them. Her hair was not black but a dark brown that gently curled less than her mother's hair did. Her eyes were mix of the two shades of blue her parents' eyes held. Freya was tall for her age and lanky and blue eyes red from crying. Sweet, gentle Freya, a second mother to her sisters would now become their only mother. To her thin body she clutched the previous youngest of the girls. Five year old Agatha was much like her eldest sister in appearance, but barely looked at him. Aggie was afraid of him, why, he couldn't say.

"Your Majesty."

"May I come in, Freya?" Freya nodded, her dark curls bouncing limply. He entered seeing Merlin's other two daughters, also in bedclothes snuggled in her bed. Hunith sat up first, blinking at him blearily through her pin straight hair. Raelyn sat up next, snuggled in her mother's blankets. The girls all stared at him expectantly; matching blue eyes bore into his soul.

"I'm afraid I have something to tell you girls." Freya met his eyes without hesitation. She knew, immediately, he could tell she saw the truth.

"You have a new sister, but…" Freya looked away, knowing what he was to say. However, the other girls were not as insightful. The three younger girls approached him, clinging to blankets and Freya.

"But….?" Freya pressed, like her mother, that one. Arthur tried to keep the proud twitch from his lips.

"I'm afraid your mother has passed away." Freya bit her lip, Raelyn and Hunith's eyes widened, Aggie merely stared up, confused.

"Passed…..away…?"

"She's dead." Spat Raelyn.

"She's gone and she's not coming back." Sobbed Hunith. Then they began bawling. The sound was ungodly as four young witches let loose their grief. The windows shattered and the furniture fell apart. They were out of control, weeping with all their might. Arthur tried to calm them, talking to Freya first then each girl in age order. None, not even Freya, would heed him. Eventually a witch, Merlin's apprentice if he remembered correctly, came in hearing the ruckus the girls were making. She hurriedly cast sleeping spells on the girls to calm them down. One by one, the dark haired girls dropped like flies. Arthur helped tuck them into their mother's bed, wincing think of all the memories that bed held. Arthur's fingers lingered over Freya's hair, staring fondly at her feminine Merlin-like face. Arthur thanked the apprentice, feeling bad that he didn't even know her name. He asked her to keep guard over the children until he could figure out what to do.

X

The first time he met her, he was convinced she was a boy. Dressed in ragged breeches a loose shirt, she could have easily passed for male. Though she made a very pretty boy, she could pass. The hair that would have marked her as female was bound in a cap to keep it out of her way. It wasn't until after she was in the stocks that Arthur even realized she was a girl. The cap fell off and her loose braid flopped down, unraveling. With hair loose around her face, it was easy to see. But the goddamned girl never dressed the part so even when she became his maid, she still seemed to be more boy than girl. Merlin wore breeches and boots for God's sake, along with tunics. She picked them readily over the pretty dresses or castoff of noble that Gwen or other maids wore. Merlin's dark hair was always woven into a braid too, never loose. Now, no one would make the mistake.

Earlier he had seen her eyeing one of the menservants the visiting King brought, handsome thing, caught her attention. Since then she had been prancing about in a dress. It was simple and cotton, her hair was no longer tied back, her curls framing her angular face. Arthur seemed unable to erase the lippy maid from his mind. But here she stood before him, dressed for the feast in her village finery best. Her hair curled about her shoulders with a bit of it tied back with a small red scarf. There was no way in hell she was going out dressed like that, and he made sure to tell her.

"What on earth is wrong with this?"

"You are not wearing those rags; you will be dressed like a proper servant." Little did his insolent servant know what he had in store.

Five minutes later she did.

His pretty maidservant might as well have been a clown. She wore a high collared cloak, a hat with huge feather and ceremonial clothes made for a man that was way too big for her. She had to use her own belt to keep her clothes on her. Arthur had to pull his eyes away while she desperately tried to hold her breeches up. He had seen plenty of maids, many prettier than Merlin, why was he so flustered by only her. Arthur snickered to himself. However he frowned when the handsome manservant from earlier gestured her over. The maidservant ripped off her hat and ran over to meet him. His heart burned with irritation. However the irritation became shock when the maiden ran before the entire court and declared Arthur's wine poisoned.

But the shock turned to horror as Arthur watched her elfish face contort in pain. Prince Arthur watched his irritating maidservant fall to the ground. He didn't remember getting up from his seat, or rushing to her fallen body, but all he knew was fear as he leaned over her. Arthur remembered stroking her face, finding it terribly cold. He lifted her body, was it always so light, into his arms and rushed her to Gaius's chambers. Arthur never felt more afraid than he did then. He was so afraid, so afraid hat he would defy his father just to save her. Never, never, never, did he ever know more relief than when he saw her sitting weakly in a chair with a limp smile. His heart soared for her. It was then he thought was when he began to love her.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur found himself in his personal chambers again. He had some of the witch finders on full alert. Now that Merlin was gone, he didn't know how safe he was or his sons. He thought of the funeral arrangement, having Merlin made beautiful with her favorite dark blue dress and red Pendragon cloak, flower petals scattered over her dark hair and those pretty blue eyes closed. Arthur wouldn't admit how scared and lost he was right now. Merlin had been at his side for such a long time, supporting and saving his sorry arse without him even knowing it. Now she was gone, like a cannonball had torn a huge hole in his life. He would never see her goofy smile again, or that cold look she adopted when casting powerful spells. Arthur would miss Merlin's big ears and pronounced cheekbones, he would miss teasing her, bantering with her, and he would miss her saucy remarks. Most of all he would miss those eyes. Those blue eyes which looked so much like the twilight sky, eyes that would flash yellow like dragon eyes, all for him, only for him; he would miss it.

Tears burned at his eyes again. He thought of their last kiss, their last embrace, the scared, sickly look was all she had to offer him. That was his Merlin, always leaving him wanting. He wanted for her in every way, every place and every time. She only gave a little. So absorbed in grief he didn't notice the cloaked figure behind him. The figure grinned a bit then placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur jumped and spun around to the figure. A young man, he guessed, dressed in Druid colored, a dark green cloak with embroidery along the hem. The man held up a hand as a show of peace and the other removed his hood. At first his identity remained a mystery, until he saw those eyes. Those eyes that were cold, pale blue and silver like ice.

Mordred.

"Mordred…?" Arthur leapt to his feet, feeling for his sword. He found no sword strapped to his side, and his eyes darted frantically trying to find a replacement. Mordred chuckled darkly.

"Hello Arthur." The young man said as if they were both friends. Arthur backed away, which only seemed to amuse Mordred more.

"What are you doing here Mordred?" He hissed. Mordred wandered, unconcerned for the hostility in Arthur's tone.

"What a rude way to greet a guest, and after I came all this way…." Mordred drifted off, distracted by a tapestry of Uther slaying a dragon. His white fingers ran over the cloth. Arthur stood stiffly, waiting to be blasted with magic or something. The boy was supposed to kill him someday, why not now? God how he wished for Merlin to be here. Finally Mordred turning his wavering attention back to Arthur.

"Lady Emrys is dead." It wasn't a question.

"How do you know that? She's been dead for scarcely four hours now!" Panic ripped through him like liquid flames.

"I am her kin. Every being born with magic in their blood felt her death. She is and was the heart and soul of our kind. She's dead and everyone knows it." Mordred told him, his eyes never left Arthur, bever wavered.

"You still haven't told me why you're here. Is it to kill me?" Arthur snapped, trying to push away his fears.

"No, I have bigger fish to fry, or so the saying goes."

"Then what?"

"Lady Emrys has left five daughters, each with considerable power of their own. Just as every magical creature knew of the Lady's death, they know of her offspring." He answered, expression stoic, shrouding his thoughts.

"So what, are you here to take them from me? Do you honestly think I'd hand over my five precious daughters to the likes of you?" Mordred's mouth twitched in what seemed to be, amusement.

"Her daughters aren't safe here, and frankly neither are you."

"This is Camelot, who would dare attack me?"

"No one, so long as Lady Emrys stood by you. But she does so no longer. She is dead, and you along with her children are now oh so vulnerable to everything that wants to sink their teeth into them. There are many of magic blood who wanted you dead, and will try to kill you now that the Lady can no longer stop them. Her children each have great destinies ahead, are very powerful and will doubtlessly be very beautiful. But they are children; they are vulnerable to those who want to possess them. They malleable and because of that, they're probably the five most valuable creatures in the land right now." Arthur throws a chair across the room.

"Do not speak of my daughters as if they are possessions!" He hissed.

"But sire; that is what they are. That is how you treat them."

"How dare you?"

"How dare I? Arthur, I am not the one who reduced a beautiful goddess to a warrior's whore." His words were flippant and casual but anger permeated through. Arthur bit his tongue, despite the new wave of anger running through him.

"What difference does it make to you? You hated her." Mordred chuckled.

"What man can truly hate his god?"

"God?"

"You truly are ignorant, aren't you? To my kind, Lady Emrys was a beautiful goddess, magic incarnate sent to save us. She did so. I'd be the first to admit I'm bit cross about that incident many years ago, but I have moved on. In doing so, I have come to love and worship her as my brothers and sisters have."

"I ask for the last time Mordred, why are you here?"

"I am here to protect the girls."

"What?"

"They were born from the Lady's womb; they are her kin and gods to us as well."

"Why would you protect them why the hell should I even trust you?"

"You're still alive aren't you? If I wanted something other than peace, I would kill and take them by force, as others would. But only wish to protect them. " Arthur looked unconvinced.

"Perhaps this will sway you." Before Arthur could react, Mordred placed a hand firmly on his brow.

Merlin was standing in a forest, pregnant, but he couldn't tell with which girl. After she hit about twenty two her aging had slowed dramatically. Her dark hair fluttering the wind, she wore nothing but a night gown and her favorite blue cloak, worn with age and love. She was staring straight forward, at Mordred. On hand was steadying herself, the swelling on her belly threw her balance off. One hand was planted on an ash tree, dark in the night and winter bleakness. She adjusted her cloak and shifted her large booted feet. Her eyes locked on what Arthur guessed was himself, but knew that couldn't be possible. Very few times had Merlin ever given him such a cold look, and he remembered each time. This, in the middle of a winter night, her dark hair billowing over the cloak that matched her eyes; he did not remember this. This was Mordred's memory, not his.

"Mordred."

"My Lady Emrys, why so cold?" Mordred's voice leaked from his mouth and a hand that was too pale to be his reached out for her. She said nothing in turn, her blue eyes merely watching in a stunning display of silent ferocity.

"How fare your daughters, Freya and Hunith?"So she was carrying Raelyn right now.

"I have told several times, the well-being of my daughters is not your concern." She hissed. Arthur felt the body move forward and the outstretched hand ran its fingers over her prominent cheekbone, it received a zap in response.

"You are stronger now."

"You sound surprised. Aren't you the one who enlightened me of my standing among magic folk?"

"True."

"Why are you here Mordred?" Mordred didn't answer but placed a hand firmly on her belly.

"I just wanted to say hello." His voice oozed with ill intentions. Merlin slapped his hand away as a warning; both hands firmly planting themselves on her belly.

"I hear the little ones are growing in fine young witches, little wells of magic both of them, despite their father." He swept to her side, but eyes never left him.

"This one will be a girl too, won't she?"

"She will."

"My Lady, you are invaluable to our kind, to me as well."

"Mordred….." She warned.

"My lady I am here to offer my services."

"Services?"

"I am here to swear an oath of loyalty to you, and to your daughters unborn or otherwise." He knelt and kissed her knuckles. She stepped backward.

"An oath."

"You know of what I speak."

"What about Arthur?"

"My, so familiar, but I'm afraid I won't. You might as well ask a fish to fly."

"What do you want with them?"

"I want to see them be all they can be, that is all, My Lady. I have always cared for you deeply though you refuse to acknowledge it. I would never bring harm to you or your precious King's Bastards." Merlin stepped backwards. Merlin's eyes flashed gold in her fury of how her daughter called bastards, but quickly calmed herself. She opened her mouth several times, and then she finally spoke.

"If you swear upon your life and your magic, by the roots of the earth from which we all hail that you will only ever serve me and my children, never to harm or act to harm either myself or my children, I will allow you near them."

"Is that it?"

"No. In the case that I should die before Freya at least is of age, you will be charged as their guardian and protector in my place, to teach and guide them to adulthood and their full potential." Mordred's face split into a modest smile.

"I swear upon my life and my magic, from the roots from which all life hails that I will never harm or act with intention to harm the Lady Merlin Emrys and her children. Should she die before her oldest is of age, I will act as guardian, protector and teacher for her children. This I swear, by the power of Lady Emrys and the power within me." His eyes and Merlin's flashed gold and it was done.

"She…?"

"She trusted me with her daughters."

"Why?"

"I value them more than you." Arthur rushed him but Mordred stepped aside.

"You don't understand, they're in danger as long as they're in your care."

"They are in Camelot!"

"A place anyone could find easily, even more so since they are kept as your wards now in the royal palace. Those girls are something anyone could find. So long as you care for them they are in danger of many things."

"Of what things, if Merlin was a goddess to your kind, who would hurt her daughters." Mordred's hand was pressed against his head again, forcing images into his head.

A young woman, who looked just like Merlin, sat on a filthy cot, her belly swollen large. She rocked back and forth. Her hair was filthy, so was her skin. Tears streaked lines down her face. A noise was heard and she looked up, to where Arthur was watching. To look in those eyes, it only took a moment to realize who the pregnant girl was. It was Freya, his oldest baby girl, who now was sleeping with her sisters in her dead mother's bed. Freya struggled to stand under the huge weight of her belly. Arthur shivered as a second figure walked through him. This one had straight hair and he realized it was Hunith, her belly just starting to swell.

"Sister, Freya, please don't cry anymore." Hunith clambered on the filthy cot, cradling Freya. Arthur noticed they both were shackled at the ankle with metal collars around their necks, collars with runes on them. Mordred's voice made a disgusted noise as he stepped from the shadows, observing the sisters in pain.

"They will become breeders, forced to give birth on demand for powerful sorcerers in want of heirs. The oldest girls at least, but even this is a shallow fate in comparison to the younger girls." The imagery shifted and they were in a cave. A sorcerer shifted and moved about, but that is not what has Arthur's attention. In a corner sat another girl, younger than the precious girls, but not be much. Her hair was black and curly, her sad blue eyes locked onto the ground, blank. Arthur watched in horror as the sorcerer approached and placed a hand on her forehead.

"Raelyn, that's her name isn't it. She has an unusually large amount of magic; this sorcerer uses her as a magic source like a stone or a staff. She's nothing but a wand and he has no natural power of his own. Each day he sucks her dry, and eventually she will die. Raelyn's hair will grey in a few days from this." Mordred whispered, running a hand on her filthy cheek. Arthur watched as the cave faded away into a crude butcher's room. Blood splattered on the walls and he heard a wail of anguish.

Arthur watched as a girl who resembled Freya was pulled into the room kicking and screaming, she was young, from her age alone, Arthur had to say it was Agatha. Tears threatened to fall; the girl was scarcely six years old. Arthur watched a huge man, burly and barbaric looking picked up Aggie and threw her on the table. Once the man strapped the little girl down he moved to the knives and other implements.

"Mummy! Mummy, help me please!"

"Your mummy's dead kid, so shut up! Or I'll rip your tongue out while you're still kicking." The man picked up a butcher's knife; Arthur screamed in rage and tried to stop him. But he went right through the man, Mordred was watching him calmly.

"A witch's body parts have amazing properties. A tongue, eyes and the heart each are powerful components, especially if the little witch has a lot of raw power in her." Just as the blade began to swing down, and Aggie's eyes flooded with tears, the scene froze.

"The poor child will be dismantled and sold in parts for powerful potions." Arthur raged at the thought of sweet little Aggie meeting such a fate. Mordred said nothing more as the room faded to darkness. When the final scene didn't arise, Arthur looked to Mordred.

"What about Saoirse?"

"The babe?"

"Yes, the baby" Mordred's hand flew up and a forest, a peaceful woods came to be. Mordred and Arthur watched as a small figure skipped down the path, wearing a dark blue cloak embroidered with Celtic symbols. The figure tipped and fell down. A second figure, an adult went to her side. The girl sat up and Arthur saw her face. She looked like a little Merlin. She had the same blue eyes and black hair; it was straight with bangs and snowy white skin. Unlike her sisters Saoirse was in good health. The adult pushed back his hood as a large hand stoked the child's face to rid any pain. It was Mordred.

"I save her. Some stole her, sorry, bought her with intention of raising her to be an assassin. I saved her while she's still a baby and raise her as my daughter. We fight to save her sisters, but two of them are already dead by the time the search truly begins, the other two might as well be. I raise her as my daughter, protect her and keep her safe. Something you could never do for her. She becomes a great witch, at a price; the lives of two sisters and the sanity of the other two." Mordred whispered.

The world of Arthur's time was restored around them. Mordred stepped away and gazed at Arthur expectantly. Before he could stop himself, he vomited. The sights he saw horrified him. Her thought of his girls, clung to each other when they heard the news. He thought of the fate that awaited them in the future. Arthur, the king of Albion and Camelot, fell to his knees weeping. His girls, what horrors awaited them it wasn't fair. He knew he couldn't do this without her, without Merlin.

"What can I do?"

"What I told you before, give them to me. I swear to keep them safe in my care and return them to you when they are ready. It I won't take them forcibly from you, they are not mine to claim."

"Why can't you protect them here?"

"I can't, they are too conspicuous here." Arthur said nothing for a bit.

"I'll let you keep them, for now. But please, let them stay until after their mother's funeral."

"Of course." Mordred turned away, but just before he vanished, he turned to Arthur.

"Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to refer to Merlin as female in all author notes. Another chapter. Merlin's dead and Mordred comes a callin'. The girls can't stay with Arthur and he is not happy about that at all. They aren't safe without a powerful witch/warlock keeping an eye on them. Mordred will be traveling around with them to give them an opportunity to explore their own powers. Poor Merlin, her funeral's next chapter. So Merlin and Mordred made up off screen at some point. I mean to the magic folk, Emrys is pretty much a god, magic incarnate, so naturally Mordred would have a hard time hating her forever.
> 
> Extra Stuffs:  
> Name Meanings:  
> Merlin: Directly translates to sea fortress/ type of falcon used for hunting  
> Freya: Merlin's deceased (?) best friend/lady of the lake/ the goddess of love and beauty/ means noble one  
> Hunith: Merlin's Mother, pretty straight forward/ I couldn't find the meaning :'(  
> Raelyn: Sunny Lake/ Sunbeam on a lake/ goes to Merlin's association with water you know with the lady of the lake, her own name of sea fortress, sign of light. Pronounced Ray-linn  
> Agatha: Good/Goodness/ sign of Merlin's wish for her child's purity  
> Saoirse: Freedom/significance revealed later on. Pronounced Seer-sha, confusing right.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur would watch his truest love burn. She was beautiful on this day, dressed in blue, a red cloak with the Pendragon crest draped over her legs. She lay on a bed of white flowers, petals scattered in her long dark hair. Her lips and cheeks were painted well; dark powder decorated her closed eyes. They readied her for her journey on a boat in which she would burn and become one with the waters of Avalon. Arthur ran his finger tips over her cheeks; to adjust a few strands of hair before funeral pyre was to be lit. Arthur allowed his gaze to drift to where the girls stood, all of them dressed in black. His blue eyes went back to Merlin. This was his last sight of her, pretty, beautiful, divine. All these words described her and yet couldn't. She was his lover, his life, his other half and his soul mate. Yet he was the one who sent her to the grave. His lips met hers for one last time, his heart wrenching from her cold skin.

Arthur, King of Albion and Camelot, struggled not to cry as the pyre was lit, as the boat was pushed onto the lake, as her daughters stood by crying. He watched the boat burst into flames, and the tongues of fire lick at Merlin, or what little he could see. Arthur turned to the girls, Freya was holding baby Saoirse swaddled in black fabric and Aggie clinging to her skirt. Hunith and Raelyn watched blankly, tears actively flowing. They all stayed and watched with the King. He refused to budge until the boat had completely vanished below the surface. Gwen held his hand and leaned into his shoulder. Lohot and Uther, his sons stood with the girls, crying with them.

When the last bit of boat vanished beneath the surface he turned to his horse to leave. Everyone followed suit. Just as he left he turned to look one last time, he swore he saw a dark haired girl in the lake cradling Merlin in her arms. With all his might he turned away and rode back to the castle. The girls were to be given to Mordred today. Arthur knew this would destroy their poor little hearts even more but they had to be safe. He wouldn't allow his daughters, legitimate or otherwise, to meet the fate in store if he kept them. Once Arthur settled into his private chambers he summoned Freya.

X

Freya, a ten year old witch, who was now mother to her four sisters, came to him with her little eyes red from crying. He beckoned her forward and the girl approached and stood before him. God, she looked so much like Merlin. She was still sniffling and some snot was on the sleeves of her black dress. Arthur stroked her face, cherishing what little time he had left with his oldest child. Freya had been conceived by accident. Freya was his eldest, in another place and another world she could have been queen one day. His little Freya, who Merlin was carrying on the day she defeated Morgana and he began the journey to unite Albion, who Merlin claimed to be the daughter of a nameless warlock, whom she had loved, to cover up the truth and protect Arthur. Lady Freya Emrys, she should have been Freya Pendragon. He kissed Freya's forehead.

"Your Majesty?"

"Freya, did your mother ever tell you the relationship we have?" Freya blinked at him, with those eyes which were such a perfect blend of him and Merlin. She hesitated to answer, eyes darting every which way.

"You're my father." She said, hardly above a whisper.

"And?" He urged.

"You were Mother's beloved, you fathered my sisters too." She continued, averting her eyes.

"If you know that then call me by what I am to you."

"Yes, Father." She whispered. She clung to the fabric of his breeches, hanging on for dear life. King Arthur was the only parent of this little girl now, and he couldn't even say so in public. Tears pricked at the corners of those beautiful eyes, which he little one quickly wiped away. Arthur ruffled her loose curls fondly.

"Oh my sweet baby girl, your mummy and I made a lot of mistakes but be assured you were never one of them. I'm going to do right by you, Freya."

"Father?"

"This isn't easy; God above knows it's not. But despite what I want, I need you and your sisters safe."

"Father, what are you talking about?" Arthur pulled the girl onto his lap. He held her like he would a vulnerable creature, kissing her head and rocking her gently. She was taking to him remarkably well. Arthur had held the girl only a few times in her short life. Once or twice he held her as a baby, only to be scolded by Merlin, no one was supposed to know the identity of Freya's real father. When she was a troublesome toddler, Arthur caught her a few times before she managed to do something very dangerous. How a two year old managed stairs and eluded guards was beyond him. To be fair, Merlin had been carrying Hunith and was often sleeping her exhaustion away, thus giving the girl opportunity. Once or twice he had held her since then, hell, he's barely made contact with his own daughter. God, he was turning into his own father.

"I'm sending you away." The girl in his arms tensed then she looked up at him, fresh tears in her eyes.

"No, please!" She shrieked, clinging to him.

"Sweet one, I'm sorry, I don't want this any more than you do. Trust me."

"Then don't send me away Father! I'll be good I promise! This is my home, this was Mother's home, don't make me leave."

"You won't be alone, your sisters will be with you. You'll come back in a few years, I promise."

"But Father-!"

"No, you're going. You and your sisters, you aren't safe here. I can't protect you, I'd rather die than see harm come to my daughters. This is for your own good."

"Father…." She whined in protest.

"Please Freya; don't make this harder for me. I don't want you to leave anymore than you do, probably less. But if you stay you won't be safe, and neither will your sisters." He whispered.

"We will come back?"

"I swear it." The girl nodded pitifully. Mordred materialized from the shadows causing the girl to gasp. She dug her fingers into his tunic, shivering at the cold eyes.

"Arthur, it's time." He whispered, eyeing the child on his lap. Mordred held out a hand to her.

"You really are a beauty little one, like your mother." Freya stared at him unblinking, her blue eyes flashing gold briefly.

"You're like me." Mordred nodded, Freya gave him her hand. Mordred pressed a tender kiss and guided her from her father's lap.

"Sweet child, I'll be looking after you and your sisters from now on. I will teach you and raise you, but we must leave."

"When?"

"Now, let's gather your sisters." Freya panicked and looked back to Arthur. Arthur ran his fingers through her hair. He pressed a kiss in her hair; his precious firstborn was leaving him. He knew now how his father must have felt a long time ago. Mordred held her tiny hand and led her away.

"Be a good girl for Daddy, Freya."

He watched them leave one last time, seeing them off from the palace gates. Arthur watched as Freya adjusted Raelyn's cloak and straightened Aggie's collar. Mordred watched silently, holding the swaddled infant securely in his arms. Hunith glanced back at him, briefly. Hunith and the younger girls didn't know the truth. They weren't attached to him as Freya was. Freya approached him one last time, without warning she threw herself at him, hugging his waist. Arthur sighed and ruffled her hair one last time. She pulled away and drifted to Mordred's side. As they walked away into the night, their matching blue cloaks billowed in the night wind.

When morning came, Queen Gwen woke to see Arthur sitting at the end of her bed.

"Arthur?" She mumbled sleepily.

"You got what you wanted." He spat and left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a shorter chapter, but next one will be much longer. A bit of insight on how Arthur really felt. Arthur loves his little girls as much as his sons. And Freya, believe it or not, is his oldest child, not Lohot or Uther. More on that later. Short chapter so there's not much to say.   
> Extra Stuffs:  
> Name Meanings/Significance:
> 
> Merlin: Directly translates to sea fortress/ type of falcon used for hunting
> 
> Freya: Merlin's deceased (?) best friend/lady of the lake/ the goddess of love and beauty/ means noble one
> 
> Hunith: Merlin's Mother, pretty straight forward/ I couldn't find the meaning :'(
> 
> Raelyn: Sunny Lake/ Sunbeam on a lake/ goes to Merlin's association with water you know with the lady of the lake, her own name of sea fortress, sign of light. Pronounced Ray-linn
> 
> Agatha: Good/Goodness/ sign of Merlin's wish for her child's purity
> 
> Saoirse: Freedom/significance revealed later on. Pronounced Seer-sha, confusing right.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur hadn't been this happy in eight years. For the first time in what seemed an eternity, he received word from his daughters. The note had been received during a full moon last month, the words had been simple. "When the moon becomes full again, the blood of magic will return to their birthplace." The bottom of the letter held the Emrys crest, a roaring dragon surrounded by a wreath of leaves. It was crest he and Merlin had cooked up what seemed a lifetime ago. Tonight the moon was full, this morning his daughters would be arriving. Nothing could dampen his mood, not even the sour gazes of his wife or the somber moods of the guards. It had been eight years since any of the girls had set foot in Camelot. No one knew how much they had changed.

So Arthur sat on his throne and waited. The party had been spotted within the city limits and was approaching. Gwen sat beside him, fidgeting uncomfortably, though Arthur could hardly blame her. The girls were result of an ongoing affair with Merlin, what women wanted to constantly be reminded of the extent of their husband's infidelity. Arthur's sons, sixteen year old Lohot and fourteen year old Uther, stood by, just as eager as he. The boys had been close to their half-sisters, without even knowing their relation. Now that they knew, they loved and missed their precious sisters more than ever. They were the only ones who rivaled the love Arthur held for the girls. If he remembered correctly, Lohot had been very close with Hunith, not surprising considered the siblings were born less than a month apart. But both boys loved Freya with all their hearts, who wouldn't?

"Announcing the Emrys sisters, Lady Freya, Lady Hunith, Lady Raelyn, Lady Agatha and Lady Saoirse. Also announcing the Druid Master Mordred." Arthur shuddered at the name. But the shudder vanished when six hooded figures moved into the room with all the grace of Merlin when she focused. The image was ruined when one of the shorter ones tripped and fell flat on her face. Many people held back their snorts and chuckles, as the girl seemed to twitch in shame. The tallest immediately helped her up, all the while their faces hidden from him on his throne. After that stunt there was no doubting they were Merlin's. The shorter girl scrambled to keep up, trying to maintain any lost dignity.

"Welcome home, daughters of Merlin. It has been many years since you walked these halls, Camelot welcomes you with open arms." The tallest stepped forward and curtseyed deeply. Arthur frowned at the peasant quality of her dress. She was Pendragon by blood, she shouldn't wear anything but the finest fabrics. She stepped before her sisters alone, and removed the hood of her cloak.

"I am the eldest daughter of Merlin, Freya Emrys. I am eighteen years of age; I specialize in healing and defensive magic." It was Freya and by god she had grown into a beauty. While you could clearly see she was Merlin's daughter, Arthur saw more of himself in her, all except her gentle demeanor; that was her mother's. Her hair fell around her elfish face in loose curls and waves. She gazed upon Arthur uncertainly, but all the unconditional love girls had for their fathers. He gave her a proud grin. She smiled back and brought another forward. This was the girl who fell, she too removed her hood.

"I am Hunith, My Lord, the second daughter of Merlin. I am sixteen years of age, specializing in prophecy, scrying and mind reading." She was a pretty thing as well, her hair was the lightest of the sisters, still dark brown but not as dark as Freya's or Aggie's, pin straight too. Her eyes were Merlin's completely though. The way her lips were full and plump, that was Merlin too, he could tell every man in the hall was eyeing that mouth. The figure taller than Hunith came over as well and removed her hood. Everyone gasped.

"I am Raelyn, the third daughter of Merlin. I am a Dragon Lady, and specialize in combat magic, and I'm fifteen." Raelyn's hair was cropped short in a tight helmet of black curls, unheard for a woman to sport. Reminiscent of her mother's eccentric ways, she wore trousers and boots instead of a dress or skirt. She also wore a plain tunic and single earring. The earring had a long thin chain and tiny silver disc on it. On her shoulder a raven was perched, nipping at her hair. Raelyn turned gestured for the second shortest one, who removed her hood while balancing a staff in her hand.

"I am Agatha, the fourth daughter of Merlin. I'm a druid, and specialize in nature based magic, I'm thirteen." She was practically Freya's double, though her coloration was darker and her skin paler. She smiled with all the innocent joy of young girl. She was smiling at her sisters, not at him. Finally the smallest figure came forward, more child than any of them. She walked right to Freya, but didn't remove her hood. Mordred looked as though he was about to laugh. Freya's eyes darted to Arthur then back to the child. She mumbled something to the child and pulled the hood back.

Saoirse.

"I'm Saoirse, Merlin's youngest. I specialize in necromancy and séances, I'm eight." She whispered, her eyes locked on Arthur. Arthur felt a shiver run down his spine. Something about the child unnerved him, maybe it was her sheer resemblance of Merlin. Her eyes were cold, like when Merlin was forced to do something unsavory for him. There was an eerie air of wisdom about her. Everything about her seemed the same to the woman he knew was dead for eight years now. The girl's eyes were just as blue, skin just as pale, and hair just as black. Though straight hair replaced Merlin's curls, it didn't take away from the overall effect. Her features were elfish reminding him of how he once thought of Merlin as a fairy of old religion instead of a mere human. But the girl was frightening, for her seemingly hateful stare.

"It is a pleasure to have all of you back." He smiled genuinely; his prince sons were practically shaking with the desire to hug their sisters again.

"The servants have prepared rooms for each of you." Then he turned to Mordred, who seemed to be slowly approaching the girls.

"As for you Mordred, you have my sincerest thanks. You will be rewarded. You may stay the night, but it would be best if you departed tomorrow." Mordred's lips twitched in the parody of smile.

"As you wish." He bowed, but a shrieked stopped everything.

"No!" It was Saoirse who shouted.

"Saoirse….." Freya started.

"No, Father stays! I don't want him to go!" Agatha continued.

"Aggie…."

"She's right! Freya, tell him to not make Father leave!" Raelyn added. Poor Freya looked torn in sixteen directions. Hunith was trying to help her quell the conflict. Arthur's rage began churning in his stomach. What in the hell. He shot a glare at Mordred who shrugged mirthfully in response.

"Lady Freya….." He managed to say evenly. Freya shot up, looking him in the eye helplessly.

"May I have a private word with you?" She nodded, grateful for the escape. Arthur stood from his throne and walked down the steps with a sweep of his cloak. Freya followed like a kicked puppy, not before muttering something to Hunith who restrained the girls. Once they were in an empty room, Arthur slammed the door behind her.

"What the hell was that?" He spat venomously.

"Father….. I….." She whispered helplessly.

"Am I 'Father' to you, or is Mordred?" Arthur raged, throwing a chair, causing the girl to start.

"I can explain."

"Can you now? Care to explain why three of my daughters are calling another man Father." He hollered in her face, bits of spit clinging to her cheeks.

"I can!" The drapes and chair shuddered with her outburst. Her eyes flashed gold briefly as she righted them, a little indignant that she lost control.

"Please do."

"I have informed them of their father's identity, all of them, even Saoirse. The younger girls, simply refuse to listen. You must understand, we were all very young when we left and I was the only one who knew then. Aggie and Seya never knew a parent besides me, and Master Mordred. They just wanted someone to call Father, and he was willing to accept the title."

"Just Aggie and Saoirse?"

"No, Raelyn too. They were all young, Mother was dead, and they needed an adult."

"I understand an adult, or even a parental figure, but calling him Father…"

"Saoirse started it, when she was starting to talk, she kept calling him Dada, then Daddy, then Father. The others just started to do it too. It couldn't be helped, no matter what I said."

"Hunith?"

"She never did, she listened to me." Arthur sighed, some of his fury subsiding.

"Freya….. Thank you for trying. You are dismissed." She nodded.

"Good night, Father." Arthur didn't fight the proud and glad smile that crept onto his face. She was still his; his eldest was still his baby girl. She alone had been conceived by him whilst he was not thinking of his marriage and future. She alone was truly a product of unyielding love and not frustration, possession, or hatred. His.

Once Freya had shut the doors to her bedroom, the room she once shared with her mother and sisters, Arthur stormed to Mordred. A series of furious knocks was all it took to bring the damned druid to the door. He smiled at him, cocking his head casually as if seeing an old friend. He welcomed him into his room, as if he weren't a guest. Mordred's arrogance only fueled Arthur's fury.

"What the hell did you do to them?"

"To who, Sire."

"My daughters."

"Are they yours, I must have forgotten. They always insisted they were bastards. They have no father, and when the littlest one wanted a father, and decided I would be it, well I didn't crush her by saying no." Arthur slammed him into a wardrobe.

"No, they aren't yours. They are my daughters, mine!"

"So possessive my lord." There was a long silence, in which Mordred never broke eye contact or his smirking expression.

"Do you know why I pledged myself to Lady Emrys?" Arthur blinked stupidly to the question.

"Do you know why I hate you so much?"

"Do you know why I cared for those girls so well?" Mordred brought his mouth to the king's ear.

"I loved her." Arthur jerked away.

"Couldn't; you see it. I loved the Lady with all my heart, she was mine, and she was supposed to be mine. I was supposed to love and protect her; I was supposed to sire her children. I was worthy of her, you were not." Arthur threw a punch.

"How dare you!"

"I was her equal, or at least closest she would ever find. Emrys was like a god, I, a being born to love and serve her. You, compared to she, are a worm crawling blindly in the mud. Why that beautiful goddess would ever allow the likes of you to taint her, to dirty her, is beyond me. She was supposed to be mine."

"She loved me." Arthur hissed.

"And you dishonored her love by taking another to wife, not only that but you bedded her while bonded to another. You disgust me." Mordred hissed and pushed him from the room with magic.

"They may be your daughters by blood Arthur Pendragon, but I am the one they call father. Mistreat my daughters, wrong them in any way, it will not be a mistake you have the opportunity to repeat it." He hissed and slammed the door.

Arthur nearly burst back in, his mind reeling with fury. His beautiful daughters had finally returned to him after years and he couldn't take any joy in it. How dare the druid insinuate that he would ever hurt his precious girls? Even more, Arthur was infuriated that three of his daughters had been stolen from him. More and more he wished to lash against Mordred, but he restrained. As mad as Arthur was, Mordred had kept his promise. The druid had raised the five girls to healthy, and powerful young ladies. He could not deny it, as much as he wanted to. So he returned to his room, determined to reclaim his girls when morning came. That night Arthur dreamed of Merlin, the elfish little peasant girl, who in reality was considered a god by magic's blood.

That night, Arthur dreamed of the night he and Merlin made Freya.

X

His plans to reclaim his daughters, by immersing them in the life they should have had as Pendragon daughters, were ruined before he had even finished his breakfast. It was his custom to dine alone, when Merlin was alive he had dined with her, when a servant came rushing in, muttering about his daughters and the offer of silks and jewels for them. As a half-bribe, half-reintroduction to Camelot lifestyle, he had sent seamstresses to each girl to commission dresses for them to wear. Arthur decided he didn't want his daughters running around in rough spun cotton dresses and cloaks. However, it seemed, the younger girls were causing trouble for the royal seamstress and her assistants. Arthur finished his breakfast and approached Freya's room. The moment was a bit awkward, for Arthur decided that the oldest of Merlin's girl should have her old bedroom. Even knocking on the door stirred memories he didn't like. Freya answered, being the good girl she was.

"Sire?"

"There's no one but us here, Freya, call me what you will."

"Father, is something wrong?" She mumbled, peeking from behind the door.

"I should ask the same of you, way aren't you coming out." She muttered something incoherent and opened the door all the way. Arthur saw why she was hiding. Freya was wearing one of her mother's old dresses.

"Freya, you look lovely." She looked at her feet.

"The servant said it was alright, until they made the dresses for me." Arthur smiled fondly.

"Of course, you're the only one who would probably fit in it."

"It's strange, I imagined them being smaller. I always remember her being so small."

"Well she was about your size, perhaps smaller, when she was your age. Well, until she had you that is." Freya's face grew more troubled.

"Your sisters seem to be causing trouble for the servants, care to help?" He teased. The look on the eighteen-year-old's face was nothing short of mortification. Without a word she left the room and walked purposefully down the hall, bypassing Hunith's room and going straight to Raelyn's. The door was all but kicked open as Freya stormed in. The young combat mage jumped at the sight of her. Well, the fighter of the sisters was terrified of the healer, how hilarious.

"Raelyn, are you causing trouble for the servants. You know better."

"But Freya! They want to put me in a dress." The girl said the word in what seemed disgust. Freya whacked her upside the head.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" Raelyn shrieked.

"You're being rude, and you can't go about dressed in those rags forever. And don't swear!"

"Freya!" God, she was like him.

"No, don't 'Freya' me. Look, why don't we just have breeches made with a skirt that falls above your knees and a tunic. Does that satisfy you?" Raelyn cowered at the sight of her irritated sister. Then she nodded irritably, her pet raven cawed and flutter onto her shoulder.

"Could I perhaps have a hawking glove for Morrighan?"

"Ask Father." Freya gestured to him. Arthur nearly jumped; the whole concept of being father was foreign to the girls, even if they knew he was. For Freya to outright refer to him as that, especially to one of the girls who called Mordred her father, was downright startling. Raelyn caught his unease and turned her nose up at him.

"Why would Father need to be asked? We're King Arthur's guests." The blow stung, but Arthur tried not to let it show. Freya had different ideas.

"Raelyn! He is our father, do not show such disrespect."

"It is he who disrespects us, Freya. Your Grace, if you think you can just waltz back into our lives laden with presents, you're sadly mistaken." Freya fumed and pushed her away, giving her a harsh lecture behind a screen. She came out; her proverbial feathers ruffled and approached Arthur.

"She won't be causing you more trouble, Father. I'll talk to her later." Despite the tension between Arthur and his girls, Freya seemed determined to remain his daughter.

At this moment, despite all the features he saw as his seemed to melt away. The stubborn determined gaze, her intent to make him happy above all else, it was all her. Her large ears hidden by thick dark hair and those pretty blue eyes, all he saw was Merlin. He found himself wishing for her more than ever. His heart ached for her, for his Merlin; so he pulled his daughter close and hugged her. Freya stiffened but forced herself to relax. It was a brief happiness but Arthur couldn't have been more content. He could understand her hesitance; he had some himself, but loved her and knew that loved was returned. Eventually she hugged back.

"Let's go to the others." She mumbled awkwardly, stepping back. She all but fled from his hug. Arthur's heart thumped painfully, watching his eldest show a sign of….. fear? He swore Freya would never have to fear him so long as she was in his care; it was a private oath but just as binding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a few things. I know Emrys isn't Merlin's actual surname. Merlin calls herself Emrys as a family name for two reasons. 1. Merlin was a peasant and a bastard, she had no surname. 2. Merlin needed a surname for her new role as practically nobility. 3. She wanted her surname to identify with her and Emrys is something she's well known as. So that's out of the way. Arthur's over the moon that his baby girls are back with him, even with the unexplained attachment to their teacher, Mordred. I imagine Mordred's pretty dang powerful, earning him the title of being a druid-master.


	5. Chapter 5

"Agatha!" Freya hollered into the druid girl's room. Agatha poked her head out from behind a screen, looking terrified. Her big blue eyes blinked nervously, her childish hands clutched her willow wood staff.

"Yes Freya?"

"You're causing trouble; I thought we talked about this."

"They want to put me in fancy dresses. Father says druids don't need anything like that."

"Father didn't say anything about druids, Master Mordred did. And you're not a druid; you were born of a creature of the Old Religion. You're beyond a druid, I know your magic is similar to theirs, but you're not. You're a daughter of Camelot. You're a daughter of Lady Merlin of Ealdor. Because of this, you will dress like one." Aggie glanced at Freya, and her dress.

"Like you, wearing Mother's old dresses." She mumbled. Freya bit her lip, unable to respond. Arthur noticed the stare they held wasn't malicious, only curious.

"Agatha, we're the daughters of King Arthur…. And we're daughters of Lady Merlin Emrys. We have certain expectations to keep." Aggie looked as though she were about to throw a fit, but changed her mind and quieted down.

"Come on Aggie, don't you want a pretty new dress and a warm shawl." To prove her point, Freya plucked at a moth-eaten hole in the current one.

"Perhaps one Mother wore." Freya offered. Aggie had a look between utter excitement and hesitation.

"But…."

"Mother would love for you to have one, and maybe a simple dress of nice fabric to go with it?" Freya urged and Aggie nodded.

"That sounds good."

"Good girl." When they left, Freya heaved a large sigh.

"You handle them well Freya."

"Well, after being their mother for eight years you sink or swim. I swam." She mumbled.

"I'm guessing you know the last little devil."

"Saoirse, she'll be the most…. Difficult. She's always been, difficult. We think it's because of her necromancy. She sees the world differently. While we see life, all she sees is death. Mother, whom we all loved, died with her birth, she must shoulder that, forever. For that, we give her love; it's all we can do. I warn you, she'll take to you the slowest if at all. She's only ever known Master and me as her mother and father, never you." Freya moved away, her mother's dress billowing. They came to Saoirse's room and Arthur heard a giggling inside, or something akin to it. It was far too somber to be the eight year's laugh. Freya rapped on the door with her knuckles.

"Saoirse?"

"Come in." Freya opened the door and Arthur's heart immediately caught fire. Saoirse was sitting on Mordred's lap.

"Sister, come in, Father was just telling a wonderful story about Mother."

"Indeed, my little cuckoo bird is always a rapt listener. I was telling her the story of how she conquered the changeling Nimueh. Would you like to hear too, my dove." Mordred smirked, his fingers running through her dark hair.

"Saoirse, I did not come for a visit, surely you know that." Saoirse's eyes moved to Arthur, scrutinizing him with an awareness that someone her age should not have. Then she moved her gaze to her sister, sliding off her "father's" lap and clutching at Freya's skirt. Clearly the girl knew what she had done t upset her elder sibling.

"I do not wish to be dressed as they do here. You know that, Elder Sister. Please do not make me. Here they bask in life, and that is not my fate."

"Saoirse…."

"Please sister?" Freya huffed.

"Nothing fancy, but a new dress, in the style of the ones you wear already." Saoirse hugged her.

"Thank you, Sister."

"Just try to behave for Father."

"I always behave for Father." Saoirse replied looking at Mordred. Freya's mouth twitched, knowing she was purposely being obstinate.

"Have a good day Saoirse." Freya mumbled. Saoirse nodded her eyes only on her sister. Freya left and glanced at Arthur when they closed the door.

"She's a piece of work." Freya smiled, pleased with his relaxation it seemed.

"Don't I know it. If you'll excuse me Father, I promised my brothers a sparring match." Arthur's jaw dropped. She stared at him with an innocent grin.

"Yes?"

"A sparring match?"

"I am your daughter, Sire. Does it surprise you that I have a talent for combat? Raelyn's not the only one." She giggled like a child with a secret and skipped back to her rooms.

X

Arthur just had to see it for himself. He was hiding from his paperwork by watching his sons practicing in the yard. Both sons were handsome, like their father, both standing tall with café au lait skin and dark curly hair. Lohot was strong and healthy while Uther was on the skinny side. But what amused him was the sight of Raelyn fighting circles around the younger boy. Raelyn had her raven flying around her as she battled her brother with a thin version of a broadsword. The child wasn't strong but she was fast as a rabbit, ducking and dodging from Uther's attacks. She muttered something to him causing him to turn red and attack furiously. The girl knocked him back with a well aimed kick and strike from the hilt of her weapon, sending him flat on his arse. Raelyn drew herself up straight and laughed.

"You're still green little one."

"I'm not little!" Uther shouted indignantly. Raelyn laughed again. Her laugh was not the delicate chuckle or giggle of Freya or any other girl, but the hearty man-like laugh.

"You're little to me."

"Better luck next time brother. How about a match with me, Raelyn?"

"Yeah, sure, once Freya wipes the floor with you." Raelyn giggled.

"Freya, I'd do nothing to hurt the poor girl."

"Don't take me so lightly, Sire."

"Please Freya, call me Lohot." Lohot drew his blade as Freya pulled out a pair of daggers. Lohot made a show of swinging his blade about. Freya chuckled at him and dashed. She was just as tall as he but twice as agile. No matter how many times Lohot swung his blunted blade as the lightly clad girl, he missed and she was fighting like a viper. Freya's strikes were quick and rang true. Lohot was flat on his arse before he could even register what had happened. Freya threw back her head laughed, unlike her sister, it was gentle and feminine.

"Where the bloody hell did you learn to fight like that!"

"Mother once said that those who rely solely on magic will die if it is taken away. We must learn to survive in the case it's taken away. The druids taught me to fight without magic, daggers they said, suited a healer. I was the oldest; I needed to be able to protect my sisters." Freya smiled warmly and all the hearts on the training grounds melted. Freya was special like that, always drawing love to herself. She was Merlin's daughter. Though Saoirse looked the most like their elfish mother, Freya was her soul reborn in a way. Freya wasn't snarky, oh no Raelyn inherited that, but she had that bad habit to be too damn trusting, and making others love her. Eventually her smile faded a bit, being more melancholy than joyful. The lapse lasted only a moment before she smiled back at her half-brother.

"Care for another round."

X

Arthur was with Gwen, something he rarely did alone. Since he began his ongoing affair with his court sorceress, things had been tense or obvious reasons. Gwen had believed the lie when Freya was conceived. Freya, for all intents and purposes, was an accident, an unintended child. Arthur hadn't carried on with Merlin again until his bastard daughter was two years of age. It wasn't until Merlin gave birth to Hunith that Gwen let herself see the truth. It's hard not to when your own child looks exactly like the babe born to a close friend of your husband less than a month before. Gwen wasn't happy that the girls returned, how could she? What woman wanted to see the proof of her husband's infidelity day in and out? Arthur was lounging in a chair, reading a book lightly. Gwen stood by the window, gazing out on the field where the brothers and sisters intermingled.

"I don't like the boys playing with them." She mumbled, loud enough for Arthur to hear.

"The boys are getting along famously with their sisters. I don't see what's wrong with that."

"They aren't their sisters."

"I believe they are, granted the girls are half-sisters to Lohot and Uther, but sisters none the less." Gwen's hand shifted uncomfortably on the windowsill. Arthur glanced out the window. As they once were, Hunith and Lohot were playing around. The pair had been born within weeks of each other and had been playmates from birth. Arthur noticed that Freya and Saoirse were not among the giggling group.

"Have you no shame? You parade those bastards around as if you're proud of your own weakness." Arthur ripped his gaze away from the window and upon his wife.

"I am proud of them, Gwen. They are my daughters and all show remarkable ability. You hate them without reason Gwen."

"They're proof of how little you respect me, how little loyalty you have. I couldn't even say which of us got the shorter of the stick, Merlin or me." She spat.

"What would you have me do, Gwen?"

"Send them away. They already see Mordred as their father."

"I'm not doing that to Freya again. She depends on me!"

"Because she has no one else. Despite her desperation to want to stay with you, she trusts Mordred more. She wants to believe you-!"

"Shut up! They're my daughters whether or not you want to accept it! It may take years to earn back the trust of all of them, but that is a reality I'm prepared to face. You're going to have to as well, Guinevere!" Arthur and Gwen heard a loud scuffle. They turned to the door where Freya was standing with Saoirse clinging to her freshly made skirt. Freya opened and closed her mouth a few times at being caught.

"Freya, what's the matter?" He tried to be gentle not to scare his daughter away.

"I'm sorry Sire, we shall go."

"No, please stay."

"Sire….."

"Everyone knows in this room. You more than have leave to refer to me as you should." Her eyes darted to Gwen, who glared back at her. However, Freya plucked up her courage and spoke.

"Father, I apologize, I did not mean to interrupt. I wished to inquire if the boys had permission to go riding with us. Forgive me."

"No need to apologize my daughter. Of course you may, in fact I'll go with you."

"Perhaps, that is not a good idea." Freya mumbled, pulling away.

"Oh, why not?"

"Well you seem to be discussing something with Lady Gwen, I…" She trailed off, not wishing to continue but her expression acted where her courage failed.

"Guinevere; that is how you will refer to me." Gwen was curt and harsh. No one called her Guinevere except for total strangers or people she didn't like.

"Forgive me your grace."

"You shouldn't speak to Freya like that. She's a daughter of Emrys, far above you. On top of that, she is the eldest!" Saoirse spat. Freya glanced down and tugged at her collar as a warning. It was as if she were pulling at a mad dog to calm.

"Seya!" She hissed.

"It's true! The druids and other creatures of old religion revere us as daughters of God, of Magic itself. Why should we cater to the pride of peasant queen?"

"Silence!"

"Seya! Forgive her, your grace, she is but a child after all."

"A child who needs a lesson in manners!"

"Touch me and face my wrath! Traitorous queen!"

"How cute."

"Your grace, please, don't anger her. Saoirse, I spoken with you about this!"

"It was her, Sister, it was her!" Freya stopped. Her gaze moved to Gwen slowly, fearfully. She looked away, holding Saoirse close to her. She breathing heavily, her eyes dilated and turning gold. Arthur watched in concern as color left her face; making her look even whiter than normal. Freya bit her lip and shook off whatever frightened her and walked away, tugging her sister along. Arthur noticed that all of her mother's clumsiness came out in that moment; She was tripping over the hem of her dress to get away. Away from what?

"Let's go back to the others, Seya, let's take Master along too." She mumbled hurriedly.

"Freya!"

"Forgive me Father; I just remembered I need to speak with Master Mordred!" She called back. Odd, Freya just said she was to go riding with her siblings. The lie was weak, even for her.

What the hell was that about?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saoirse is really fun to right because she really doesn't have a filter, the kid's and has a bit of a holier than thou attitude for the world. That happens when you're treated at the child of a goddess. It's pretty clear too that she and Gwen will not get along. Clearly all of the girls are attached to Merlin despite being young when she died, they cling to anything that might bring her closer.
> 
> Bio Part 1:
> 
> Name: Freya Emrys  
> Specialty: Healing/Defense type magic  
> Age: 18  
> Hair: Dark Brown, curly  
> Eyes: Blue, medium darkness  
> Father: King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot  
> Mother: Lady Merlin Emrys, of Ealdor.  
> Aliases: Dove, Frey, The Eldest Daughter of Emrys, Lady of the West  
> Other Skills: Dagger Fighting  
> Personality: Gentle for the most part, but tends to become a fierce creature in battle, mostly relies on her own physical skill for her dagger based combat. Generally takes a maternal temperament when dealing with her younger sisters, as she is their mother figure, but can be rather stern and disciplines when necessary.


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur watched wistfully as the younger girls rode off with their brothers. Arthur noticed that Freya and Saoirse were not with them, nor was Mordred. Something Saoirse had said, unnerved Freya in a way he had never seen. She had been terrified, of what, he didn't know. All Saoirse had to say was "it was her" and the girl blanched like a sheet. Gwen had been equally confused but once they had left, offered no insight on their actions. Arthur tried to find them later but found them vanished like smoke. He left the window and walked into the hall, where he met Mordred.

"I was waiting for you."

"Why?"

"It seems your queen scared my daughters something awful." Mordred scoffed at him.

"Your daughters?" Mordred approached him, using his aura to unnerve the King.

"I'm the one who raised them when their mother died." He whispered softly, his words oily.

"They are my daughters! Mine!" He hissed.

"Lady Emrys was right, you're a spoiled prat." Mordred told him with grin of a Cheshire cat.

"Why did Freya behave like that?"

"I don't know, it's been awhile since that girl's been afraid of anything." Mordred shrugged.

"You're awfully casual about this."

"I know Freya, she'll come to me when she's ready." He smirked, his body language screaming his confidence. Mordred was threatening him, reminding him who had been "Father" to the girls; likely he would never let Arthur forget.

"What about Saoirse?"

"As much as she loves me, she's rather secretive about this sort of thing. No idea where that came from." He chuckled.

"She is always a puzzle, despite the fact we've all been with her since the day she was born."

"You weren't with her, I was." Mordred's expression soured like old milk. The harsh reminders ripped something from him; Arthur didn't know why it was so different for Saoirse. The other girls had been born into his waiting arms, so why did that one fact unnerve him. He pushed the thought away. Figuring Mordred had come to see Saoirse as his child because he had raised her from the cradle and no doubt his unhealthy obsession with Arthur's paramour.

"That's right, you were the first to hold her, after the midwives of course. My Lady never got that chance." He managed between clenched teeth.

"Don't forget that!" He hissed. The show of defense and anxiety hanged his face once more. Mordred merely smiled secretively again.

"I never have, trust me. Now if you'll excuse me; I'm going to see where my little cuckoo bird has gotten to now."

X

When he managed to track Freya down, she was sitting in a secluded niche, a place her mother had favored after his marriage to Gwen. Merlin must have brought her here sometimes. Despite his best efforts, the girl would not move or speak to him. She purposely ignored him, or at least he thought so, until he saw her farseeing eyes shining gold. Arthur didn't know for sure what she was doing, but decided to leave her to it for now. There many things he was not meant to understand about Merlin and the same went for their girls. Magic was beyond him, so in a sense, his daughters were too.

He hated it, being so distant from even the one who loved him most. Freya was difficult to understand, the others even more so. Saoirse seemed to exist in a whole different realm from him, watching him with those big blue eyes. Arthur tried, god knows he did, but some things were meant to be beyond him. He turned back to his eldest, stroking her hair affectionately for a moment before leaving her be. When she was ready she would talk, very much like her mother in that aspect. He could only hope it would be him she would come to, not Mordred. So until then, he would go to his bed and sleep.

X

Merlin was alive again. She was beautiful with thick dark hair, woven in plaits against her head, decorated with pure white flowers. She wore the white gowns and robes of a druid bride; she smiled broadly and danced around the ceremonial fires, Mordred holding her hand. A ribbon was tied about them, binding their wrists. Both had broad smiles across their faces, Merlin, his Merlin, laugh walk the way. Freya was there, as a small child. Merlin stopped her merrymaking to lift girl up and dance with her as well. Mordred smiled at Freya, Arthur's Freya, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead. She called him "Daddy". Merlin smiled up at Mordred, and kissed him slowly. His unbound hand carded through thick curls and hers did the same. Then she put Freya down and ran into a tent with Mordred.

Arthur watched in horror as the two made love.

X

The dream was enough to shake him; he didn't know what to think anymore. Arthur had woken quite violently to a gentle touch. He wrenched up to the see the young witch who had been serving as Merlin's apprentice and substitute. She was an average looking girl, ruddy freckled cheeks and frizzy red hair ruined from potion brewing. As always, he name seemed to escape him. Arthur didn't like acknowledging her more than he had to. The redhead was just another reminder that his beloved was no longer at his side. She stumbled backwards when he woke, startled.

"Forgive me your grace. You looked as though you were having a nightmare, I wished to help." She whispered in the timid voice that most servants adopted. Arthur hated it in a way. He missed dearly the days of Merlin as his maid and her combative nature as his servant. He could never be bored with his personal guardian hanging around him. The he thought of the dream, of Merlin in Mordred's arms.

"Far too vivid for a nightmare." He paused as the witch retreated, tugging at her frizzy hair.

"What did you dream?" She inquired gently. Arthur sighed and figured she could off her insight.

"I dreamt she married, to someone who was not me." He mumbled the last bit, but the witch snickered.

"Obviously." She giggled. The damn woman had the audacity to laugh at something that distressed him, the KING.

"What?"

"No disrespect my lord, but, she would never be allowed to marry you." The damn witch was actually amused by the prospect.

"I am the King of Camelot, of Albion." He told her, as if she didn't know, irritation lacing his words.

"And she was Lady Emrys of the Old Religion. If she married someone like you, there would be uproar from all parties." The witch tutted, speaking to him as if he were a know-nothing child.

"What do you mean?"

"A mortal like you could never marry her; she was like a god to us. Besides, she would become queen; there would be uproar from your people. A sorceress cannot be queen of mortals. I can't believe you didn't know that. I'm surprised you never saw the jealous gazes of her many suitors. Even more so, I'm surprised she didn't make a point of it when refusing you." The witch sniffed.

"Many suitors?"

"My Lord, she was the most sought after woman in the world of magic. There was not a man who didn't desire to marry her, or even be allowed to share her bed for a night. The fact that you sired her daughters made many hate you for it and many more who jealous." She didn't seem annoyed anymore, just speaking of Merlin's situation like a fairytale.

"What, so big eared, clumsy Merlin was the most beautiful witch to ever walk the land. I never saw a single warlock propose to her." Arthur immediately felt bad after saying it. True Merlin was no Morgana when it came to looks, nut she had her own unique beauty. It was her beauty that caught his eye too late, acknowledged it too late, when he was married to another.

"That's because she was claimed." Pride shot through him.

"By me I suppose." Arthur tried, he really did, to not sound smug about keeping Merlin like a mistress on front of one that practically worshiped her.

"Hardly, Druid Master Mordred claimed her. No man in his right mind would challenge his claim." The pride was replaced by cold, stiff horror.

"What?"

"Master Mordred stated that he would marry her when the time came, and to be honest everyone was too afraid to challenge him on it."

"That's a lie."

"It's the truth. The Master may never have proposed in front of you, but he had to her many times."

"And she refused him!"

"She gave him no answer, it's different. She definitely considered it, and may have married him if she the Lady had not died as early as she did." The witch left his side and prepared his morning brew of potions.

"The only man she ever considered was Gwaine, and I put a stop to that." The witch twitched.

"You did not own her, My Lord. No one did. She was beyond possession; she was just a part of the land and magic my folk worship." The witch spat, as if disgusted.

"You may not speak to me like that!"

"And you may not speak of Lady Emrys like that!" She shouted back. Magic rippled around her, but compared to Merlin, or any of her girls, even the baby of them, she was like a gnat to a dragon. Then it hit him, the horror, and the reality. People of magic do not trust him or follow him, they always followed Merlin. They followed him because she did. They listened to him, because Merlin did. Now that she was gone, they followed her daughters and him because he was their sire. There was no loyalty for him, only Emrys and her blood. That in itself didn't bother him that much, but to think so many hated him for siring daughters by Merlin, it made him wonder…. What had the girls themselves experienced those long eight years among their own kind? Was there resentment? Were they looked down upon for having a non-magic sire? He couldn't say.

"You are dismissed." The witch huffed and walked away.

X

Hours later he ran into Lohot who was sporting his best coat with a wide grin across his light brown face. Arthur smiled at his son who ran up to him. Damn what Gwen said, Lohot was like a child on Yule Festival since Hunith had returned. The pair were tight knit from birth and that hadn't changed very the years. Lohot was an eager boy, eager to please his father and the kingdom. He was the crown prince, late in coming but he was there none the less. Lohot was quite a bit like Arthur in personality, but much brighter and friendlier, something he would have to shed in the near future.

"Good morning Father." Arthur beamed and ran his hand through his son's dark curls.

"Good morning son. You seem in good spirits, off to play with Hunith?"

"I'm not a child, Father." Lohot pouted.

"To me you are, off with you." Lohot grinned again and scurried off in a very un-princely way. Arthur smiled despite himself. How Gwen imagined to tear those two apart was beyond him. As turned to go his own way he bumped into the very figure of his thoughts, Hunith. She looked the most like him, except for maybe when Raelyn was sporting a cocky grin. Her hair was dark brown, but lighter than any of her sisters, Merlin's eyes and full lips. She had been in a daze.

"I'm sorry, Sire." She muttered, looking down.

"You may call me as I am to you." Arthur told her warmly; she looked down, her face flushing.

"I'm sorry, Father… I didn't know…."

"Hey, sweetie, you seem so far away."

"Sorry Father, I'm just, the visions have been coming more frequently since I came here."

"Visions?"

"Never Mother's forte but it's my gift." Hunith smiled.

"What sort of things do you see?" Hunith shrugged.

"Mostly images, nonsensical things. Sometimes the meaning of what I see is clear but not often. I dreamed of mother's death, I dreamed of returning here, I dream of things that have yet to come." Arthur gazed upon his second born. That farseeing look, the one his former maidservant wore whenever she had a choice to make.

"Do you, do you ever see the past?"

"The past?"

"Yes, like things that have already happened." Hunith looked uncomfortable; she shifted from foot to foot.

"We see everything, seers I mean; it's for the future that people seek us out. I see many things, past, future, present."

"Hunith, child, did you ever see your mother marry Mordred?" Hunith's eyes widened, panicked by the question. She bit her lip and fiddled with a lock of her hair.

"I….."

"I want the truth."

"I have seen it, as a possibility."

"Possibility?"

"Most things we see aren't set in stone. In fact I see more things that aren't guaranteed than not."

"So, in one time, she married Mordred."

"Master loved her, he loved her a lot. He would have made her happy." She saw Arthur tense.

"But, that was just one path! There were many paths, most of them involved you!" She assured him. She tugged at his tunic, looking up with childish large eyes. Different paths, paths when he may have married her, or never had her at all. Hunith stayed, one hand touching his arm in a gesture of comfort. Something occurred him, a question, so he asked.

"Hunith, why is it you see me as Father? You've spent half your life with Mordred and you never saw me as your father until you returned, so why?" She blinked those Merlin eyes of hers and thought.

"Lohot, I guess."

"Lohot?"

"I've always thought of Lohot as my brother. To think of you as my father enforces that reality. At least that's how I thought of it when I was younger."

"And now?"

"Visions don't discriminate to seers, I see something new every night and I can call upon a vision that has been bestowed upon me. I see everything."

"What vision are you talking about?"

"I saw what would have happened, had you not let us go." She told him, her eyes locking in to his in that farseeing way that witches have.

"You….." His words failed him as he gazed into the beautiful blue eyes of his second born.

"You did what was best for us. Out of all of us, you suffered most from this. You sent us away because you loved us and I think you knew it would destroy our relationship. But when I saw what you did for us, I decided to never again doubt your love, just as Freya does." Arthur's heart skipped a beat. To feel the love of a daughter, his second born child, made him feel fulfilled.

"Why don't you go on and play with Lohot? Go on, and have fun."

"Father, don't treat me like a child, I'm sixteen."

"To me you're a child and my baby." Her cheeks turned pink. Hunith stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

"Alright, Father." Arthur continued his walk beaming like a love-sick fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The witch's name is Coreen for those that are curious, it means maiden and spear for some reason. Arthur strikes me as someone who would forget the name of someone who has worked for him for like eight years. There's a little Hunith development. Most of the development will focus of the oldest two and the youngest and them teensy bit of Lohot. So Hunith saw what Mordred showed to Arthur, I doubt she told her younger sisters, she probably only told Freya who made the decision not to tell the others. It's not because she's trying to keep a secret, rather that she knows how it would be received by Raelyn and Saoirse, Aggie would probably just get dragged along with their opinion. True and powerful seers like Hunith can see multiple paths and realities; hence visions aren't always completely reliable. Morgana only saw what was to come but powerful one like Hunith and can see everything and have the ability to scry which is to use sight over long distances and spy if she wished. It's because she's Merlin's child that she's stronger than Morgana.
> 
> Name: Hunith Emrys  
> Age: 16  
> Hair: Brown, Straight  
> Eyes: Blue, like her Mother's  
> Father: King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot  
> Mother: Lady Merlin Emrys, of Ealdor  
> Aliases: Owlet, Honey, Second Daughter of Emrys, the Divine Seer  
> Other Skills: Wicked talented at reading body language  
> Personality: Generally wise and all knowing when dealing with adults and strangers, among her sisters, she quiet and gentle much her elder sister. Because she is very much all knowing due to her own talents as a seer, so she sees all sides of an argument and is very black and white about liking or disliking someone once she has seen enough to judge them for herself.


	7. Chapter 7

"Arthur, what would you do if you ever lost me?" The question caught him off guard as he stared at his pretty maidservant. Her blue eyes hooked into his, captivating them. It's at times like this, he saw the truth in her, but he was too ignorant to see it for what it was.

"Find a better maid for starters." He told her flippantly. But the question brought a harsh reality to mind. How many times had he nearly lost the girl, only a few years younger than himself, to death? Too many, and the same feeling reigned whenever she became mortally wounded, horror and helplessness. But despite his harsh answer, she chuckled softly.

"What if I told you I am going to die tomorrow?" She continued, a melancholy smile claiming her devilish mouth.

"I would say you're being stupid as usual." However, she did not respond with a laugh. She approached him, sashaying her hips a she came closer. Merlin stood before him where he reclined in his chair. Something about the way she carried herself that night seemed so different. No longer is Merlin a tiny little maid, with a mouth too loose for her own good. That night she walked like a queen, like a goddess. Her serious gaze and step almost made him want to bow and kiss her hand as he had done for many a queen.

"I'm serious." Arthur crinkled his brow in confusion. Yes there was a war tomorrow but she would be working with medics, far from the battle, far from danger. Merlin would be safe, she had to be.

"Arthur…." She insisted when he didn't answer.

"You know, I never have met a servant who so oppositional to her King." She blinked. There was no good humored nature in her expression. It was cold and hard, powerful almost, Arthur didn't like it.

"You're avoiding the question." She told him.

"Merlin, what's this about?" Arthur asked flippantly, but her expression did not waver.

"I'm going to die Arthur."

"You'll be fine, you'll be with the medics, I can't have a woman fighting this war." She shook her head. Fr the eve before a battle, she looks ravishing. Something about her seems to shine brighter than ever before. Her hair is not woven into a thick braid as was her custom, nor her clothes masculine. Merlin was every bit a ravishing woman tonight. Perhaps it was the taste of mead on his tongue and the buzz in his head, but tonight she was far more beautiful than Gwen had ever been.

"No Arthur, tomorrow I'll be on the battlefield beside you. I will take a mortal blow for you as I have done so many times. I'll save your royal arse again, but this time I'll pay with my life. Even if I survive somehow, you won't thank me." Merlin's eyes lowered; her face dropping.

"Why?"

"Tomorrow you will see something about me and my nature that you will hate. I know you will." Tear began to prick at the corners of her eyes.

"Merlin you're speaking nonsense."

"I can't tell you now. I wanted one last night of your companionship before I throw it all away."

"Merlin…."

"Please, for my services to you, all these years, may I ask one thing of you? Just one thing, nothing will change, I just need it."

"Merlin, you're not going to die…"

"Promise me you'll grant me my request." She whispered, her expression heart breaking. It may have been inappropriate but with the buzz of alcohol in his mind and the sight of his dearest friend crying he grabbed her. She lost her balance, being the clumsy thing she is, and fell into his lap. Then she let go and began to cry. He stoked her hair and whispers soothing words.

"Merlin, have you been at the cider?" It's meant as a joke but didn't fulfill his purpose.

"This isn't a time for jokes. Please Arthur, please." Arthur sighed; she would be inconsolable until he at least heard her out.

"What is it Merlin?"

"A kiss." Immediately he opened his mouth to refuse her, but the sight of her in his arms, he could not. Arthur realized there had always been love for her, but he had married Gwen. Arthur had loved her, but loving his own maid was not something a Prince would do, so it was pushed to the back of his mind and he merely thought of their closeness as a powerful friendship. That was never the case, he mused now. Arthur had always kept Merlin as priority. How could he ever refuse the darling girl before him that wanted nothing more than a kiss?

He knew he was married and she, unattached, but one kiss couldn't hurt. His hand stroked her cheek as thoughts of Gwen left his mind. He nodded mutely, not entirely sure why he agreed. Merlin closed her eyes and gently brushed lips with him. She stayed there for only a few moments before she pulled away. But suddenly Arthur decided he didn't want her to. Years of suppressed love and affection came pouring out in one moment. His hand fisted in her hair and pulled her back to his mouth. He tilted her head to have greater access and everything else became a blur. Next thing Arthur knew, he was straddling her in his cot, kissing her senseless. It wasn't his first time but it was certainly the most significant. Arthur Pendragon made love to his maidservant Merlin that night, the one known as Emrys. He did not regret it.

The next day came and her words proved true, she took a nasty blow to the chest to protect him. Merlin crumpled to the ground, Arthur leapt from his horse to hold her close. She couldn't die, he wouldn't let her. And he watched horrified as her eyes glowed gold and blew the entire army away before focusing on her own wound. Merlin mumbled foreign words he does not know and she survived the battle then the war. Not before passing out and nearly dying due to exhaustion. Merlin was genuinely surprised she lived and even more so when Arthur did not reject her entirely. So they went back to what they were. Arthur was King and Merlin his devoted servant. Arthur returned to Gwen and tried not to think of the intimate night he spent with his maid and his wife's best friend. Things return to normal, he returned to Camelot and began planning a family with Gwen, the night with Merlin at the back of his mind. He was a married man once more, his mind and heart never straying, except that it was, without him knowing.

Three months later he learned she was carrying his child, Freya.

X

Years had passed and the girls are now almost grown. Freya, his eldest child, is no longer a babe riding in his former maid's belly, but a woman herself. She now played mother to her sisters, the lot of them growing like weeds. Hunith smiled and jested with Lohot, like the brother and sister they were. Hunith was his second and only other daughter who called him father. Then Raelyn was the one who reminded him most of himself. Though Hunith looked the most like him, Raelyn inherited much of his personality, though a bit tempered by her possession of magic. Then Agatha, sweet Aggie who saw things in a simpler light, preferring the company of animals to usual people. However, the sweetness of his daughters ended with Aggie. For after Aggie was Saoirse, came the morbid child who did not know joy. She only knew hatred for Arthur, the man her oldest sisters called Father. The child held no love or affection for him. And based on what he had seen since the child had arrived, she held love for none outside her "family". She loved her sisters and Mordred but no one else. There was something dark about the girl and it unnerved him greatly.

For a time things seemed to be going well, gradually the younger girls began to warm up to him, especially when he told them stories about their mother. He taught Raelyn swordplay, and he showed Aggie the palace gardens as well as the horses. Saoirse, though, remained unwinnable. Most of the time she was glued to either Mordred's or Freya's side, clutching at their clothes like the child she was. But something about her left him in a permanent state of unease. Perhaps it was her sheer resemblance of her dead mother that unnerved him, but regardless, something was off with her. As her sisters slowly grew warmer to their father, she remained adamant about being distant.

As Arthur came to the conclusion that this distance was permanent, the time he spent trying to reclaim her were less and less. Saoirse was determined not to become his, and to remain Mordred's. The little necromancer girl would watch him with those eerie eyes of hers, examining him, hating him. But still, the progress with the other gave him hope. He honestly thought they could all be a family, his sons, daughters and wife. They would be happy.

That is, until Gwaine arrived.

X

"You've all gotten so big!" The rambunctious voice of his knight rang out.

"Gwaine, it's been so long!" Freya hollered, hugging the man shamelessly. Gwaine smiled and hugged her back, like a father, not a friend. Hunith caught his torso, while the younger girls waited. Freya pulled away, she cheeks flushed in excitement, her eyes sparkled.

"You remember my sisters; I suppose it might be difficult for Rae and Aggie though. And Seya mustn't know you at all." Freya beckoned the younger ones forward, who curtsied, except for Rae.

"Seya?"

"The baby of the family, Saoirse."

"The babe, huh. I've heard stories of her; she must be the little one. The stories are true."

"What stories?" Arthur noted a hint of panic in her tone.

"That the girl looks just like her mum." Gwaine grinned, scuffing Saoirse's hair. Saoirse did not bat his hand away as Arthur expected her to. Instead she acquired a rather enchanted look, the corner of her mouth twitch into a half smile.

"You are Sir Gwaine."

"Aye, that's me, pup."

"Freya has spoken of you quite fondly."

"Ah, I would hope so. I almost married your mother after all. It would be nice if her children liked me." Saoirse blinked at him, and latched onto Freya. She nodded slowly, her eyes drifting briefly to Mordred. Then Hunith, hugged him again.

"We've missed you dearly Gwaine!" She giggled into his chest

"And I you, little ones." Raelyn was next to approach, hesitantly.

"If I remember correctly, you're an excellent fighter."

"Aye, and I remember correctly you want to be a fierce warrior witch."

"You remember correctly!"

"You were such a little hell-raiser, just like your mum." Gwaine grinned, grabbing the young witch in a headlock and mussing her cap of curls. Raelyn giggled and grinned like an idiot, pleased by the comparison.

"How long are you staying Gwaine?"

"Hmmm….. How long could you girls stand having me around?" Raelyn squealed and embraced him heartily. Arthur had never seen his tomboy daughter behave so like a girl. Bitterness welled up in Arthur's chest

"Gwaine, it's good to see you again."

"Wish I could say the same Prince Pratt." An ache shot through his chest, only Merlin had called him that.

"King Pratt to you." Arthur replied, praying for a joke. Gwaine's smile vanished, it hadn't been a joke. But Arthur was determined not to drive a further rift between them; he didn't want to give his girls any more reason to hate him. But what was he supposed to say?

Sorry I ruined your life by banishing you away from the only woman you ever loved so I could continue an affair with her making illegitimate babies that just caused her emotional distress but now let's be friends?

Yeah, that would work.

"You're always welcome in Camelot, Gwaine. It's a shame you didn't visit sooner." Thankfully Gwaine didn't interject with something harsh relating to Arthur's own behavior, but the expression he shot him was enough.

"I've missed the girls something awful. When I heard they were back in town, how could I stay away?" He told Arthur with a devilish grin. Then, as if to tick Arthur off, he pressed a kiss on the top of Hunith's head. It worked, Arthur's mouth twitched in distaste.

X

Arthur had not felt this agitated in a very long time. Gwaine had that ability about him, especially since the knight seemed determined to claim the daughters of Arthur as his own wards. What made things worse was that he seemed to get along famously with Mordred. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement that the girls would be shared between them. However this left no room for Arthur. He even felt a stab of betrayal as his sons frolicked among them. Part of him raged like the dragons that Merlin once commanded. He was the root of the family. He had sired the children. He had brought Merlin to Camelot where all her admirers came to know her. He had given Gwaine knighthood. He had saved Mordred's life. Without him, none of them would be together today. Yet it was he who was excluded. Saoirse stopped her frolicking, a flower wreath clenched in her tiny hands. She stared at Arthur with that eerie wisdom. Arthur near shuddered at the smile, self-satisfied smirk she shot him.

"Are you jealous, Arthur?" Gwen asked from behind him

"Don't be ridicules; a King is never jealous of drunken rouge knight and a druid boy."

"But they are both so much more than that and you know it." Arthur grimaced. It was true, those were just outward titles, but so much like his former maid, they were much more than they appeared. Mordred was hardly a boy any longer, and a powerful sorcerer at that. Gwaine was a killed swordsman, not mention impeccable breeding. Both held genuine love for his daughters, no ulterior motives tainted their actions, and that just made it all the worse. Both had been more of father figure than Arthur ever had been, it was clear by how quickly the girls took to any return of Mordred or Gwaine, when even Freya was hesitant about coming to Arthur as a daughter.

How much longer could he stand this?

The gods were laughing at him. They dangled his precious daughters just out of reach. They had returned to him whole, but at the cost of their love. He returned to his own chambers, twirling his signet ring in thought. It was a nervous habit he took on when he had a decision to make that wasn't easy. He imagined his daughters, all of them smiling at him only for him. Arthur was a possessive man, to the point where he behaved so with both lovers and children. Merlin was his, so was Gwen, his sons and his daughters. Merlin had been nothing but a fling in the eyes of the court, and their precious children as bastards. It was not true. Arthur would never say aloud how much more he had loved his illegitimate family over his queen and princes. Then a thought occurred to him. Why had Merlin been so adamant about refusing to marry him, why did she never allow him to acknowledge the girls as his own? His thoughts weighing heavily on his mind, he curled up into his bed and slept.

X

Arthur woke to the morning light, no servant did. It was no longer unusual for him; he brushed against a body lying at his side. Arthur mumbled something and sat up; assuming Gwen was snoozing beside him, her dark curls peaking from beneath the quilt. Well, the curls were dark but not as tight as Gwen's. Arthur idly wondered if a pretty maid had been sent for his "use". Overseers often did so, but Arthur just sent the girls away. He peeled off the covers hoping to send this girl with the message to leave him alone, when he froze. The girl was young, only in her early twenties if he guessed. But the face was so familiar. It was long, not very round, the cheekbones high and sharp. Large ears peeked from beneath the mass of dark curls. Her full lips were parted so air could move in and out gently.

Merlin.

She was alive, and sleeping in his bed. This couldn't be real. He gently touched her face, as if she were a hallucination. Arthur's hand grazed her cheek and that silken feel flooded his senses. She stirred lightly, a low hum filling her throat. Merlin leaned into his touch, her eyes opening slowly. Arthur saw those eyes, those ever blue eyes. He wanted to cry. Her full lips pulled into a gentle smile. She sighed upon looking at him. Merlin sat up and gently wrapped her arms about his neck. She kissed him tenderly with those gorgeous full lips and Arthur returned it hungrily. He pressed her down into the mattress, more than making up for lost time. She smiled and giggled to him, the sounds ringing like a siren's song. Then she stopped. Merlin stared up at him, anxious and worried. Her slender fingers brushed his own cheek, it wasn't until then Arthur realized he was crying.

"Arthur, what's wrong?" She sat up with him. She was dressed in the finest night clothes money could buy. Those were the clothes of a Queen. The hand resting on his face sported a wedding band on the ring finger. Arthur ignored her question and pressed his face to her throat.

"You're real, you're alive." He whispered into her throat.

"Of course, love, what are you on about?" Arthur didn't reply, he just grabbed her and made love to her, like a man who hadn't touched a woman in a hundred years. He was unrelenting and passionate. He lived for the whimpers and coos of his Merlin. They were together, that was all that mattered. Her smile, her love, it was everything. Arthur felt like that stupid young man again, the young king who made love to his peasant maid, who ended being his court sorceress. To feel Merlin in his arms, loving him and him only, was the greatest joy Arthur had ever known.

Memories flooded into him, the birth of their children, their wedding, and their life together. What should have been. They married while she was pregnant with Freya. Two years later, Merlin gave birth to twins, Lohot and Hunith. Lohot had white skin and looked like Arthur with hair that was the same as Hunith's. Then Raelyn, his warrior princess, marched from her mother's womb. After Raelyn was a Merlin-like Uther. Then came Agatha, a child who was all smiles. Lastly, their youngest, their eight year old son, Balinor had been born. King Arthur had come to be known as the Fruitful King, a monarch who was father to seven children, all by his wife and queen, Merlin Emrys.

This world was perfect, it was true joy.

At least he thought so until he woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is how Arthur and Merlin's little affair began. Also some introspective from Arthur about his precious girls and how he feels about them. Gwaine has come back too! Horrary! Arthur has heartbreak induced dream/fantasy in which he is married to Merlin. Saoirse is creepy and stubborn. Not much else to say. Name: Lohot Pendragon  
> Age: 16  
> Hair: Black, curly  
> Eyes: Brown  
> Father: King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot  
> Mother: Queen Guinevere Pendragon of Camelot  
> Aliases: Crown Prince, the Bastard's Twin, Prince of Camelot  
> Other Skills: Talented with a sword.  
> Personality: Generally genial and light hearted. The prince takes his role seriously but sees nothing wrong with a little fun. He has a great affection for his half sister and practically his twin, Hunith. He has a strong sense of morality and justice


	8. Chapter 8

He couldn't let them go. Arthur was a man possessed. His children had become his reason for being. For their love, he would do near anything. The ten years Merlin had stood beside him has been the best in his life. Arthur ruled and untied Albion under his own rule. He was king and Merlin was his most trusted confident, and in the eyes of many, his true consort. So long as Merlin lived, Albion prospered. After she died, it struggled to maintain itself but things continued to go smoothly, but not as well as they had when his lover had been at his side. Once his girls had returned, everyone had noticed an improvement in Albion as a whole. The girls brought good luck with the kingdom, along with pretty smiles and cheerful laughs. They were Arthur's sanity and his joy. It seemed to be something he had in common with his heir Lohot. The boy and his half sister had been inseparable since Hunith's return.

However, the girls brought many sad memories and people back with them. The first of which was Mordred. Arthur had known the boy to be infatuated with his witch lover, but never did he understand the extent of it. He had learned form a palace witch that Mordred had been pursuing Merlin and made several proposals to her. Arthur was smug in knowing she never accepted. Then there was Saoirse, a child who had nothing but hate for him. She showed love to her sisters and especially to Mordred. She had led the campaign in forever parading Mordred as their new father. Then was Gwaine, the eternal thorn in his side. The man had loved Merlin from their first meeting. The man had bestowed flowers to her, and had no intention of taking her as a temporary lover. He had heard the rambunctious knight claim to his mates around the fire than he had fallen in love for the first time. He declared that the girl had stolen his heart at her first smile and he was determined to wed her one day. Arthur had not been Merlin's lover at this point; so the thought of the rouge knight settling down with his useless maidservant almost made him laugh, now it just infuriated him.

X

Arthur watched the girl dance like little puppies together on the grass earlier that day. Tonight they were nestled in Merlin's old rooms. They were together around the fireplace swapping wine and stories between them. Mordred and Gwaine were with the girls all swapping stories of the eccentric witch. Normally this time was sacred to the little makeshift family the girls and adult men had formed together. Arthur hesitated in joining them that night. He wanted so badly to be invited into their little world of magic and myth. Finally Arthur gathered his courage and knocked on the door. He could only thank his lucky stars as Freya and Hunith answered the door.

"I heard you were telling stories about your mother, I thought I might bring some interesting insight." Freya smiled brilliantly, reminding his sorely of Merlin's smile. Freya imitated it from the dimpled cheeks to crinkled eyes. He was ushered in and joined them by the fire. As expected, Hunith and Freya were the only ones who gave a warm reception. Raelyn, Saoirse and the men frowned heavily. Agatha seemed unsure how to regard him.

"What are you doing here? You know nothing of Mother." Saoirse hissed from her spot on Mordred's lap.

"Oh, child, I know more than you think." Arthur smiled.

"Tell us then, Father." Freya insisted, trying to quell a conflict before it started.

"I don't know about Merlin as a witch too much. When I met her, she was just a farmer's daughter, a clumsy girl feeling her way through…" Before Arthur knew what he was doing, words started spilling from his lips. He spoke of dragons, destinies, of clumsy maidservants and deep friendships. He wasn't sure what he was saying but it seemed to be working. Even Saoirse looked entranced by his words. So he kept going, his stories went on to their challenges, of his maid saving his sorry arse behind his back. Arthur told them of the mother that Mordred never knew and Gwaine only knew a little of. The bond he shared with Merlin laced his words, as if Merlin's own magic guided him.

He couldn't help himself. Tears blurred his vision as he got further into the story. His loneliness pierced through the veil of the past, missing her mindless chatter and giggles. Arthur described his own faults, how Merlin teased him about his inability to dress himself. He narrated her first time getting seriously drunk, how the maid had clung to him, giggling before passing out on the bed. Arthur choked on his tears, remembered the beauty she displayed the first time he saw her magic. The King spoke of his youthful bond and how everything had changed so much. Tactfully, he avoided the stories of conception, the beginning of the girls sitting before him. When he had finished, the girls were all crying, even Mordred looked a bit touched. Gwaine, however, sat still. Eventually he got up and left the room.

Arthur didn't notice at first. Agatha and Raelyn had approached him. Agatha curled herself into a hug against her father's chest. Raelyn leaned against him, so much like he would be reluctant to show affection. Freya smiled, tears crystalline on her pale cheeks. Hunith was subtle, that wise smile making her pretty feature become better tenfold. Arthur felt warm inside. Despite his utter euphoria, his eyes drifted to Saoirse who adamantly stayed in Mordred's lap. Her eyes examined him, softer than he had ever seen them, but hard none the less. It was then that he noticed Gwaine had left. Arthur enjoyed the warmth of four of his daughters before going after Gwaine. Gwaine was standing in an open hall, overlooking the courtyard. Arthur hadn't realized how much the man had aged. Gwaine was seven years his senior but had never looked it more until now.

"You have a lot of nerve you know."

"Gwaine…"

"Don't bother saying you're sorry. I won't accept it."

"Gwaine, I was wrong."

"You sure as hell were."

"Gwaine…."

"She was my one shot at happiness Arthur! I loved her, gods, I loved her….. You took her away."

"I loved her too."

"You had Gwen! I never really loved anyone before or since. We were going to be happy Arthur. She was always right, you're a selfish prat! I was going to have a family Arthur, and you took her away from me!"

"I never loved Gwen the way I loved Merlin."

"Well that's your own damn fault for making the wrong choice. The girls were finally going to have father, Merlin a husband, and I a wife."

"Gwaine…"

"I'm not planning on forgiving you, and frankly your daughters shouldn't either."

X

Arthur was having a feast in honor of his son's, Uther, birthday. Nearly everyone had come to celebrate the occasion. Merlin was there with her own family, from three year old Agatha to eight year old Freya. Now, Arthur gazed upon her admiringly, ignoring the performers completely. Merlin just flushed and looked down. Merlin had tried to convince him to break it off for the umpteenth time, but as usual failed. Now they were in a grey area of relationships. He wasn't bedding her anymore, but they certainly shared a kiss or two. Merlin avoided eye contact and cleaned up the mess that was her youngest daughter's face. Arthur had protested at the girl being named Agatha, saying it sounded like a hag's name. Merlin stated it was her child and she would decide the name. Agatha was quite cute, and being called Aggie didn't diminish it.

Then, much to Arthur's surprise, Gwaine sauntered right up to where Merlin and her children were seated. He offered his hand and an over the top bow. Merlin flushed and giggled, but accepted. Arthur nearly lost it at that alone. Gwaine swept the clumsy witch into a waltz, proudly displaying his claim over her. Arthur had not seen Merlin that happy in a long time. For the first time in years she let go of everything. Gwaine spun her around, twirling her back into his arms. By the end of the dance, her cheeks were flushed from exertion, mostly from attempting to stay balanced. Arthur had only danced with the former maid perhaps once in his life. Gwaine proceeded to dance with her several more times, each time reaching that beautiful smile. She rarely bestowed that smile upon him any longer, and his mouth twitched in protest.

It was only the beginning. Soon, everywhere Merlin went, Gwaine was beside her. Arthur would turn around to find the knight putting flowers in her hair and kissing her fingers. He became her escort at all parties, dancing with her alone and vice versa. They would spend all their free time reading together or having drinking contests, Merlin surprisingly won, to which Gwaine accused her of cheating with magic. To which she would reply with a kiss on the cheek. Worst of all, the girls were taken with Gwaine. He would have them ride on his shoulders, and he would kiss their foreheads. Gwaine was quickly taken into the Emrys family as a father/husband figure. The rumors that circulated among the court certainly didn't help.

"I can't believe someone is actually courting Lady Emrys."One lady said.

"I know, she's far past her prime." The other chuckled.

"Not to mention her bastard daughters." The first sneered.

"Though her suitor is hardly a catch either." The other stated.

"Sir Gwaine the Drunken, hard to believe he's an esteemed knight." The first mumbled.

"Indeed." The other agreed.

"Though Lady Emrys does hold high esteem despite her bastards." The first sighed.

"Don't you mean, because of her bastards." The two women chuckled and Arthur wanted to smash their faces in.

Arthur began watching Merlin more than usual. His relationship with Gwen was all but over, but Merlin, he still had a chance. But as the days and months blurred, she drifted away. The fleeting touches and hidden kisses were all but gone now. She spent her time wrapped in Gwaine's arms, dancing and smiling only for him. Gwaine was wrong for Merlin. Arthur was sure; he would never make her happy. Gwaine was a vagabond and a drunk; he would bring nothing but heartbreak for Merlin. He would always be carrying on with others, and drinking their money away. He would probably beat her too. Gwaine was all wrong; he was a decade older than her, far too old. Nothing burned the king more than having to watch the one woman he ever really loved being touched by that foul drunkard. Soon after Agatha's fourth birthday, things reached a boiling point.

Merlin had been dancing with Gwaine all night; her cheeks flushed a deep pink. It reminded him of her expression after making love. To see her make that face to someone else, made his guts turn in rage. Arthur tried to dance the night away with Gwen, to stir some jealousy within Merlin. She however, didn't even look his way. Merlin was caught up in the moment, a moment in the arms of her suitor Gwaine. When they were done dancing Merlin played with the children on the palace, many of which were her own. Gwaine watched her with such an adoring smile, Arthur wanted to punch him. Gwaine approached her and spoke in hushed tones. Merlin nodded and let him lead her away. Arthur watched in burning jealousy and followed. Gwaine took them to her favorite spot; a small niche in a tower that over looked the forest. He spun her around in a little twirl and embraced her. Gwaine pulled her away at arm's length, gazing down at her.

"Heh, anyone who knew me years ago would never believe that I would be here." He mumbled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"What do you mean?" She asked coyly.

"Merlin, you knew me, did I ever seem the courting type." Gwaine spoke to her, as a half laugh.

"No, you seemed more the type to take what you want, and if you can't, work it until you do." She told him haughtily, standing on the tips of her toes to nuzzle noses with him.

"All very true, but that all changed the day I met you, my little bird."

"Oh, how so?"

"When I saw you for the first time, I thought you were the most fascinating and attractive woman I ever saw. A pretty girl, running around in breeches and tunics, with a handsome man; but it was not your clothes that caught my eye, it was your expression. Your face was fierce, refusing to back down to protect your prince."

"Nice to know I was fascinating even then."

"You always have been so, my little bird."

"Really, well, I'm sure you only wanted to get into my breeches which caught your eye so."

"At first, I admit. However, seeing who you were, and learning your heart caught mine. I had never before or since truly loved a woman, certainly no one like you."

"And now?"

"Well, since what happened with my parents, I wasn't really keen on marrying, even less on children. Then I became a knight, and lived in the palace, along with you. Seeing your smile, and your life, it changed my mind about marriage. It wasn't until after the little chicks were born that I really got my priorities in order. I'm sorry I took so long."

"Well, better late than never, darling. They don't call me Emrys for nothing." She pressed a chaste, teasing, kiss on his mouth. Gwaine deepened it, prompting her to open her mouth. Arthur tried to restrain himself as the pair engaged in passionate actions. After what seemed an eternity, Gwaine pulled away, his thumb running over her pronounced cheekbone.

"Merlin, I have something important to ask you." She nodded, urging him to continue. Her eyes widened to twice their normal size when Gwaine got down on one knee.

"Lady Merlin Emrys, the Last Dragon Lady, witch of legend and prophecy, daughter of Balinor Ambrosius the Dragon Lord; will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" Her expression was beyond priceless.

"What?" She rasped, too shocked to use her voice. Gwaine chuckled and got up and pulled out a ring. It was silver band, engraved with Celtic symbols.

"Let me try that again. Will you marry me, Merlin, my little bird?" Tears budded at the edges of her eyes. Merlin threw her arms around his neck and he lifted her in his arms.

"I take it that's a yes?"

"Of course you fool!"

"Merlin!" The prospective bride and groom pulled away to see him. Gwaine's eyes darkened and pulled Merlin back into a possessive hold.

"Arthur….. What…..?"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Arthur hissed striding towards them. Gwaine stepped back, Merlin going with him.

"I'm proposing to Merlin, a woman I have been courting for several months now."

"Who the hell do you think you are? You can't propose to her!"

"Says who, she's not a child. You have no claim over her."

"The hell I don't." Merlin had been fairly quiet up until this point, but then she just exploded.

"I am not your wife, Arthur Pendragon; we both have made that clear on more than one occasion. I may have given birth to children sired by you, but you have a wife, so you have no claim over me."

"Merlin, I will not allow this!"

"You can't stop me from getting married!"

"Yes I can! You're mine Merlin, have you forgotten that?"

"I am not yours!"

"Really, does Gwaine know how often it was my bed you retired to? Does he know all the sensitive spots on your body? Does he know how you like to be kissed?"

"Shut up!"

"Do you still insist on this nonsensical venture, Merlin?"

"If I want to marry, it's none of your business! There's nothing you can do to make me change my mind! So let go!" Arthur expression darkened, and Merlin flinched at the sight of it.

"You need to be reminded then, fine. Guards!" Merlin looked about panicked as guards came into her sanctuary, her area.

"My King?"

"Take Sir Gwaine to the dungeons. He is to be banished from Camelot as of tomorrow." The guards grabbed Gwaine before he could act, restraining him. Merlin screamed at Arthur, moving to pound on his chest.

"You can't do that!" Arthur's expression turned for the worse. It was bad enough that she was choosing another but did she have to defend Gwaine over himself? To see her betrayed look was too much for him. Before he could realize what he was doing, Arthur had pulled back his hand to slap her savagely across the face. Merlin crumpled to the ground, staring up at him with tearful and hurt eyes. Gwaine struggled against the guards, screaming one thing or another. But the only thought on Arthurs mind was to reclaim her. She was silent, but Gwaine was swearing promising horrible fates on Arthur if he ever touched her again. Arthur ignored him; tomorrow the traitor would be gone, out of sight, out of mind. The King latched onto Merlin's wrist and pulled her to her feet. Her footing was unsteady as Arthur dragged her away.

Arthur ignored her sobs and pleads for Gwaine, each one made his heart burn more harshly. The king refused to stop until he was in his own chambers. The moment he released her hand, she crumpled again, sobbing. Arthur paced back and forth as he drew together something to say. Eventually he stopped and Merlin gazed up at him, her eyes wobbling. He had never seen her so submissive, so woman-like. It would make his reassertion of his claim all the easier. Arthur stared down as the crying witch and grabbed he arm again, lifting her to her feet and proceeding to toss her on his bed like a rag doll. She sat up and stared at him.

"Please Arthur, don't do this. Please, I love him." It was the wrong thing to say, the fire in his eyes roared to life as Arthur all but pounced on her, pinning her on the bed.

"You swore your loyalty to me and only me."

"Yes."

"You swore you would never serve another."

"I did."

"If I send him away, you cannot follow. You swore to be by my side forever."

"Please Arthur…."

"You swore! You swore you'd never hurt me either! No matter what I did, you would never harm me!"

"I know….."

"Then serve me Merlin!" He pressed his mouth to hers, and her downfall began.

By morning light, Gwaine was leaving with only a horse and a bag full of possessions. Merlin watched from the window of Arthur's bedroom, wearing only a sheet. Merlin's arms and legs were spotted with bruises; her collarbone and neck were mess of bite marks. Arthur regretted his actions by then, but it was too late to undo what had occurred. The same day as Gwaine's departure, Merlin had vanished for nearly three days. An apprentice stated she had gone to the druids for guidance and Arthur had allowed it. Merlin would never leave for good without her daughters after all. She returned her expression solemn. Merlin avoided him as much as possible, but when she was caught alone, she announced she was with child once more and left just like that. Months later, she gave birth to the cursed hating babe, Saoirse. Then she died, leaving Arthur more alone than ever.

X

He awoke.

He remembered.

Arthur would do anything to protect his daughters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Name: Raelyn Emrys  
> Age: 15  
> Hair: Black, curly  
> Eyes: Blue  
> Father: King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot  
> Mother: Lady Merlin Emrys, of Ealdor  
> Aliases: Bastard Warrior Princess, Combat Mage, Rae, Kestrel  
> Other Skills: Skilled in combat and combat based magic, is a dragonlord.  
> Personality: She can seem spoiled in arrogant in many ways, but is sensitive deep down, especially when it comes to her little sisters, Aggie and Saoirse. Her temper is hot and easily roused, once she's mad she won't let go of it for a while.


	9. Chapter 9

"Merlin….." Arthur couldn't help but sob. Merlin has been his everything, but the truth of the matter was that he had betrayed her. It was his fault that she died; Arthur had betrayed her long before he thought she betrayed him. He betrayed her when he took her for the first time on the battlefield in his tent. He betrayed her again when they conceived Hunith because of Arthur's frustrations. He betrayed her the day he chose Gwen over her. The relationship had been one-sided the whole time and Arthur had been too self-absorbed to see it. It had always been about him, never his precious Merlin. She had nearly died on his account, several times over. Merlin's death was her final gift, Saoirse, a gift for him.

"Damn it!" Arthur had all but raped her, god damn it!

"Merlin!" His sobs wracked harder now.

"I'd die for you Arthur Pendragon, my life is yours." What had he done with what she had offered? He broke her heart over and over. Arthur had killed her; it was truth in more ways than one, when she had found a way to be happy, he refused to let her take it.

'It's what you deserve for what you did to her.' His own mind scolded him.

"Arthur….." Arthur looked up to see his wife and queen standing before him.

"You're crying." She approached him, her skirt rustling as her slow footsteps progressed forward.

"Go away Guinevere."

"You know, you nearly had me executed for my adultery, yet you were the one carrying on for years with another woman. I hated those children for what they represent, and I still do. But I think it's time we talked about this." She sat next to him on the bed, her eyes staring forward.

"I want to stop hating her Arthur, she was my closest friend. I want to stop hating your daughters. You've made it clear they will always be a part of our lives, us and the boys."

"They will, they're my daughters, the boys' sisters."

"Why did you start the affair, when did it start?"

"It was the night before the final battle against Morgana; Merlin told me she was going to die tomorrow, that I would hate her. She told me she wanted one thing for all her years of loyal service…" Arthur mumbled the last part. Gwen tried not to look too hurt.

"A tumble?" Gwen inquired spitefully.

"No, a kiss."

"Kisses don't cause girls to conceive, what happened after?" Arthur swallowed thickly.

"I told her she could, and when she kissed me, it felt right. Next thing I know, I was making love to her."

"After the battle, when you returned, were you bedding her all the while?"

"No….. We acted like it never happened, in some ways it left my mind entirely. That is until you noticed her odd behavior, her eating habits and mood I mean. Then we noticed that she was wearing loose clothes and gaining weight. I confronted her and she admitted she was with child." Gwen winced.

"Then what?"

"Nothing, she admitted it was mine but she said that you and I were meant to be together, she would claim the child a bastard begotten on her by a dead lover."

"Did you ask her to marry you?"

"I did."

"She refused then."

"Vehemently, she said I was yours and she been wrong to kiss me, and submit to me."

"At least someone acknowledged their mistake" A silence reigned between them.

"When did it start again?"

"When we were having trouble conceiving; I went to Merlin for help. I was giving up hope of having a child with you. When I was there, I noticed Freya toddling around. Merlin called a witch in to keep Freya occupied, a thought occurred to me. I was fertile enough to make children, and I had, with Merlin. If we had a healthy daughter, why couldn't we have an equally healthy son? If you and I couldn't have a child, I would have an heir waiting in the arms of my most trusted advisor." Gwen winced.

"I, I approached her and kissed her. My frustrations of being unable to sire an heir came crashing on her shoulders. She refused me at first, but I kept trying until she gave in. Hunith conceived within a month of that and she was horrified. Merlin didn't know I had been counting on her to conceive, when I told her, she was hurt. By then I realized I had always loved her. But when I returned to your bed, I didn't expect you to conceive too." Arthur whispered. Gwen straightened and coughed.

"I see; what of Raelyn and Agatha?"

"Both were born when I tempted Merlin back into my arms. She kept trying to break it off, but loved me too much to resist me for long. She said I was her destiny, but she wasn't mine. If you hate anyone Gwen, hate me, never her. Merlin was on your side trying to push me back to you."

"If she truly was, she would never have gone willingly into your bed."

"Merlin was born to love me, and serve me any way she could. I think there was little she could do against her own emotions." Gwen said nothing to this.

"And Saoirse, she was conceived…."

"Everyone knows how that she was conceived, Arthur. Everyone could hear Merlin cry."Arthur winced.

"Tell me Arthur, how long have you loved her more than me?"

"I don't know, maybe always." Gwen grasped her skirt and left, unable to hear anymore.

"You're right Arthur, I don't hate Merlin anymore. I hate you for what you did to both of us. If only I could change the past… Maybe she'd be here today." She left him with that thought.

X

It was impossible for Arthur to watch his daughters easily bond with Gwaine. Damn it, even Saoirse was taken with him. The worst part was that Gwaine was allowed to hug them, be affectionate with them. Gwaine could pick up Aggie and swing her around; Freya's would hug him and kiss his scruffy cheek. It wasn't fair. Because he was king and they were illegitimate princesses, he had to keep a distance. Mordred would tell the girls stories and called them bird-themed pet names. After all, their mother had a bird name, a Merlin, a pigeon hawk. Freya was "Dove". Hunith was "Owlet". Raelyn was "Kestrel". Aggie was "Robin". Then there was Saoirse, Mordred called her his "Little Cuckoo Bird". Mordred could hug the girls and smirk at Arthur. Arthur could only watch as his daughters were taken away, like so long ago.

No, never again.

Thoughts of his lost lover flooded his mind. Her simple, her laugh, her wicked grins, they all bounded through his head. Arthur remembered her tender smiles after each birth, gazing at a baby they had made. He remembered how when she was sleeping, he would cradle the little miracles in his arms. The daughters he cradled would always stare up at him happily and grab onto his fingers and clothes. They had accepted him then. But his daughters were grown now, at least his eldest three were. Aggie was still young, and Saoirse was a child. Was it so insane to want to love his own god-damned children, even if they were not born of his wife? In many ways, he considered Merlin more of his wife than anyone. She had been his closest confidant, and his most trusted friend. Merlin was his truest love.

"Father?" It was Uther, the younger son, a mirror of the elder, stared up at him with Gwen's big, dark eyes.

"Lohot and I are going for a ride with Kestrel and Lady Hunith. Would you like to come?"

"Son, why you call Raelyn 'Kestrel'?"

"It's what Mordred calls her and she told me to."

"Yet you call her older sisters 'Lady'?" Arthur questioned with a bemused expression.

"It upsets mother to refer to them otherwise." Prince Uther was ever the mama's boy. He would never do a single thing that would offend her.

"I see."

"Lohot already treats them in such a way that upsets her, but I will not do the same."

"I saw you playing with them."

"As daughters of the late Lady Emrys. As your son, I must show them affection and hospitality."

"Are you not fond of them at all?"

"Well, I have become good friends with the Lady Agatha; she is quite like a sister now."

"She is your sister, boy." Arthur spoke harsher than he intended. Uther suited his namesake well, the relationship between father and son difficult at best, reminiscent between Arthur and his own father. Uther was reluctant to admit his attachment to his sisters due to the sadness they caused his precious mother. Lohot was aware but didn't make such an effort to avoid loving them.

"As far as everyone is concerned, they are not. They aren't your acknowledged daughters, Father. So they aren't my sisters." That's when Arthur's mindset changed. What Merlin wanted didn't matter anymore. She was dead; he and his daughters were alive.

X

He was getting ready for the feast that night, where he would make his great declaration. His servant, nowhere near as good as Merlin used to be, adjusted his Pendragon red cloak. Arthur had asked his daughters to put on red garments to celebrate their affiliation to Camelot. Though Raelyn and Saoirse made it clear they were going to be difficult, but Freya assured him it would be well. So Arthur stood tall and picked out his most marvelous golden crown. Presenting himself as the father of the most powerful witches in the land, he would have to look his best. The manservant stood up when the door opened after a timid knock. Hunith walked in, her eyes flitting up at him, round and blue. Her full lips were stuck in a permanent pout. She had the farseeing look on her face, the expression of ancient wisdom.

"I know what you plan to do tonight, Father." Arthur turned to his servant and dismissed him with a gesture.

"Leave us." The servant nodded and obeyed. Hunith's eyes followed the servant out.

"Do you intend you stop me Hunith?"

"I cannot stop what is meant to happen. I can only implore you to change your mind."

"I cannot watch you girls be whisked away forever. I wish for you girls to be mind, as you are." Hunith was quiet, but made no move to leave. She moved with that inhumane grace that Merlin so rarely displayed, but always captivated him with. She sat in his fur chair, poised like a queen.

"Do you remember when I told you that the sight was never Mother's forte?"

"I do."

"And that it is my gift."

"Yes."

"It is because my gift was not inherited from my mother." Arthur near froze as their eyes locked. Hunith fidgeted a bit, before tucking her brown hair behind her ear.

"I inherited it from my Father, I got it from you."

"That's not possible." Hunith shifted. He could tell she was about to talk but something he didn't want to hear.

"The Lady Morgana was renowned for her talents as a seer. It was gift she no doubt inherited from her mother, the Lady Vivienne de Bois. That woman was your aunt, the sister to your mother. In addition, while Morgan was a cousin, born from a magical maternal line, she also shared your father. Morgana was cousin and sister to you, you share more similarities than you know. You have always had magic, but it was minor and could not be awakened on its own. Also, your father hated magic and probably subconsciously scared you into suppressing what little you had. Not to mention that you are a creature of magic, you would not have been born without it. It has always been a part of you." Hunith explained, wringing her hands like an old rag.

"So you're saying that I have magic?" He half barked, half laughed.

"It has already begun, has it not? You have begun to see. With your open wish to bond with us, your magical daughters, your own magic has begun to stir. You have begun to see the past, dreaming vividly of things that haunt you."

"How do you…."

"You saw a possible past, a life Mother shared with Master. The life when she accepted his proposal of marriage after Freya's birth. You saw it, didn't you? That's why you asked me about different branches of realities, yes?"

"Enough Hunith."

"It's true, you and I have magic both, is it that horrible? It is your own magic that drew you so to Mother. Why do you fear it, the idea of you having it? Accepting us as your daughters will not change that, it will do no one any good."

"Silence!"

"Freya and I love you, isn't that enough?"

"No, I need all of you!" Hunith retreated a bit.

"I don't care if it's selfish; you girls are all that's left of her. You and your sisters are proof that Merlin and I once loved each other. You can't take that away." Hunith stepped away.

"There's no reasoning with you then."

"I have made my choice."

"Very well, I see you again soon, Father." With that, Hunith left her father alone, staring at a golden crown.

X

Arthur sat at the head of the banquet hall, his wife and sons beside him. The Emrys sisters sat at the table just right of Arthur's. Everyone seemed to be in good humor. Even Hunith, knowing what was to come, put on a good face. Freya was not as good an actor, and she could practically smell something wrong with her sister's demeanor. Freya's eyes caught Arthur's every so often, as if questioning him on her sister's behavior. Eventually she relaxed, and enjoyed the company and good food. Then Arthur thought it was time. He stood and held his goblet high. Everyone turned their attention to him.

"Everyone, I would like to make an announcement tonight." Knights and servants alike stared upon him.

"Everyone here is familiar with my beloved wards, the daughters of Emrys." Everyone applauded. Freya and sisters looked around; their expressions were happy but confused.

"As everyone knows, the girls have never truly had a father, but tonight I wish to shed light on this truth."

"Sire….." Freya attempted.

"The Emrys sisters were born of my blood, they are my natural daughters." People immediately began murmuring. Then it all stopped when the windows all shattered with a long shriek. All attention spun to the youngest daughter of Emrys. She stood there with her eyes blazing gold, her tiny hands gripping into fists.

"Saoirse, no!" Freya hollered. Saoirse pointed at him, her eyes glaring into his very soul.

"I am not your daughter, Arthur Pendragon! Neither by blood or association, my sisters may have been sired by your foul seed, but I was not!" Arthur stepped back, unsure how to react.

"What….."

"Saoirse!" Hunith attempted, but was held back by Freya, who shook her head.

"No point now." She said, barely above a whisper.

"I am Saoirse Emrys, the daughter of the powerful Merlin, and the Druid-Master Mordred."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Saoirse's secret is revealed. She is not of Arthur's brood, she's Mordred's kid hence the unusually strong bond they shared. Gwen and Arthur have a talk, discussing how Arthur and Merlin started carrying on, so now we know how the relationship turned from a one night stand into an ongoing affair. We find out where Hunith inherited her remarkable abilities and Arthur formally acknowledges the girls with disastrous results. He was just cuckolded in front of the entire court. Fun times.
> 
> x
> 
> Name: Agatha Emrys  
> Age: 13  
> Hair: Dark Brown, wavy.  
> Eyes: Blue  
> Father: King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot  
> Mother: Lady Merlin Emrys, of Ealdor  
> Aliases: Druid Witch, Nature Communer, Aggie, Robin  
> Other Skills: Nature Based Magic  
> Personality: The brightest and most innocent of the sisters Aggie is noticed for her kindness but also her unrealistic approach on life. She trusts too easily and too readily, too eager to see the good in people.


	10. Chapter 10

The girls all winced as the heavy door of their father's bedroom was slammed behind them. Freya bit her lip and tightened her grip of the squirming baby sister struggling for freedom. All the girls watched Arthur pace back and forth wildly, stopping only when Mordred's voice shouted from the other side of the door. Freya cocked her head to the side, eye flashing briefly and sound of the door latching. She turned gaze back on her father, eye flashing again to reduce the struggling girl she restrained. The wise, almost old, expression settled on her face as he slumped into a chair.

"How long?"

"Which of us are you speaking to?" Ventured Aggie.

"Any of you!" He snapped. Aggie and Raelyn flinched but the elder two stood strong.

"We didn't know, until Seya started to talk. After she stared calling Master, 'Dada', we tried to correct her but Master corrected us." Freya started, Saoirse looking up at her.

"We know what you did to her, to Mother." Saoirse started.

"You raped her."Raelyn spat.

"You betrayed her." Aggie whispered.

"You took advantage of her loyalty." Saoirse finished.

"Enough from you girls. Yes, we knew your sins. However, you are still our father, four of ours anyway. We, Hunith and I, wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. We are still your daughters and we knew you loved all of us. Your relationship with Mother was, complicated, but you did love her. That was why we returned at all." Freya attempted. She gave him that big puppy eyed look. Merlin had that look, when she was asking for something. Freya was trying to make peace between them but Arthur wasn't finished.

"You never told me about Saoirse." He spat between clenched teeth.

"We knew how you would react. We figured you wouldn't find out. I never expected you to formally acknowledge us." Freya reasoned.

"Why not, you're my daughters." Freya rolled her eyes, surprisingly. Raelyn imitated the gesture, the others were still.

"You really don't understand, do you?" Freya asked her grip of Saoirse tightening.

"Understand what?"

"Why Mother didn't want you to acknowledge us." She whispered.

"Enlighten me."

"They would see us a second coming of a Morgana-esque figure."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Is it? We're illegitimate daughters of the king. We're powerful in many ways. Two of us are elder than either of your sons. We have legions of magic folk willing to bow to us and no one else. We have lost our parent, that one that cared for us. We have reason to hate you, how could you not see it? Do you think it was easy for her or us? They painted Mother as a whore! We were just unclaimed bastards! It wasn't easy and we wanted to be acknowledged, it was for the best to remain otherwise. We wanted our father as much as you wanted your daughters! " Freya stopped, tears biting at the corners of her eyes. Hunith put a hand on her shoulder and Saoirse clutched at her sister's arms clutching her. Freya looked down at her half-sister.

"It's been a long day; let us continue this discussion in the morning." Freya unlocked the door with a flash of her eyes and opened it too. Mordred was waiting outside. He immediately moved to check the girls for cuts and bruises. Slowly Mordred gathered Saoirse in his arms. After doing so he locked eyes with Arthur and kissed Freya's brow, eyes never leaving him.

"Since you know, stay the hell away from my daughters, especially my little cuckoo bird." He spun away with flourish, his cloak swinging. Freya and the others followed without question. Hunith only spared a glance over her shoulder before disappearing from sight.

X

Arthur finally managed to fall asleep; the day had been a nightmare. His whole world had been ripped apart by one statement. He was a pompous fool for believing the little dark child was his. There was nothing of himself in the girl and yet he believed it. Arthur believed that Merlin would never betray him or leave him in any way. Mordred had adored and ever been infatuated with his witch lover, but to know that Mordred had known her as intimately as Arthur had, it broke his heart. He had no right to judge, he knew that his girls knew that. Arthur had broken Merlin's heart over and over again. When he had a fight with Merlin he would enjoy his wife in bed as revenge and be overtly affectionate in front of her. Merlin had no such luxury, he was her king, she was obligated to serve him and give into his wishes. She had no one to lick her wounds; no one to comfort her when she had Arthur had a spat. When she found such things in Gwaine, Arthur got rid of him and all but raped her. So he left her with no one to turn to. Whether he liked it or not he had pushed Merlin into the arms of her obsessed suitor, several years her junior. Soaked in tears of regret, he succumbed to sleep in a bed he had shared with both Merlin and Gwen.

Merlin was standing in her quarters, pulling desperately at her clothes. Arthur could see his bite marks all over her neck and collarbone, the parts if her he worshiped most. Her hair was messy, her eyes wild, Merlin was distraught. It was because of him. He watched, detached from this world, as she incinerated the blue dress from her own body, everything, reducing it to ashes. Standing as naked as the day she was born, stood his beloved Merlin. Her body was a mess of bruises and bite marks, reminding Arthur of what he had done to her. He watched her all but dash to her wardrobe and pull out her most conservative gown. It was pale blue and clung to her upper boy like a second skin, covering her from neck to toes. Arthur realized her daughters weren't up yet and were probably one room over, probably the only reason she hadn't started crying. She paced for a bit before grabbing her favorite blue cloak; the one Gwaine had given her, and pulled it about her shoulders.

Her apprentice entered into the room, her frizzy red hair pulled at the nape of her neck. She saw her Mistress in a tizzy going about the room. She saw the ashes on the floor, the thick cloak about her Lady's shoulders and the growing bruise on her cheek. The young druid girl immediately rushed to her teacher and began to fret.

"My Lady, who has done this to you?" The witch cried.

"It's nothing, Coreen, nothing."Merlin muttered, pulling away.

"My Lady, this is not 'nothing'! Did the King do this to you?" Coreen ignored her frightened gesture ad latched onto her upper arms. Merlin panicked and swatted her away.

"Coreen, I need you to look after the girls for a few days."Merlin refused to meet her gaze, but managed to speak evenly.

"My Lady-!" Corren protested.

"I don't want to talk." Merlin muttered, going to the door.

"Lady Emrys, just say the word, we will punish him for doing this to you!" Coreen declared but merlin looked panicked at the suggestion.

"No!" Coreen pulled back.

"No, I don't want Arthur harmed." Merlin insisted, shaking her head,

"My Lady…" Coreen sobbed, tugging on her cloak like a child.

"Coreen, if you are truly loyal you will not speak of what you have seen here. You will look after my daughters, and if anyone asks, I have gone to meditate on a vision."

"Just do as I've asked, please, for me." Coreen bowed her head, reluctant submission.

"Yes, My Lady."

"Thank you…." Merlin whispered and pulled up the hood of her cloak. She turned into a merlin and fluttered out the window, leaving a weeping apprentice behind.

Merlin flew through the woods swiftly and Arthur watched through the eyes of a disembodied consciousness. She flapped her little wings until she nearly crashed into the ground. Merlyn shifted back into her human form in a heap. She just sat there on her legs for awhile, choking on her sobs. She grabbed at the dirt and grass, grasping at it like a lifeline. After crying for a good ten minutes she stumbled to her feet and wandered further into the wilderness. Arthur ached to hold her, and comfort of her of the crime he had committed upon her. But this had already happened, he was not really there. All he could do was watch.

He watched the witch half stumble until she reached a lake, Avalon, the place where he had nearly drowned what seemed a lifetime ago. Merlin took two steps into the water and Arthur panicked. He was convinced for a moment she thought to kill herself, but his fears were calmed when he heard her calling a name, the name of the eldest daughter. Arthur watched as a figure emerged from the lake, a pretty girl in a deep purple dress. Despite wading through the water, she was completely dry. Her eyes were large and hair dark and slightly curled. Arthur could see why Merlin named her daughter after this woman, there was a resemblance. Merlin burst into tears again and fell into the woman's arms.

"Merlin, what the matter?" She immediate asked heavily alarmed.

"Freya!" She wailed, seeking comfort in her arms. The pair collapsed into the muddy bank, Freya attempting the calm the hysteric witch.

"Merlin, what happened to you? Your face, you're all beat up! Who did this?" She fretted as Merlin cried like a child.

"Arthur, he, he did this!" Merlin whimpered into Freya's arm.

"Did, did he….?" The implication was obvious.

"Yes, no, he might as well have…." Merlin whimpered.

"Why didn't you stop him?"

"I swore an oath never to harm him, no matter what he did. I am bound to him for life, no matter what he does to me."Merlin recited, a bitterness leaking into her tone.

"You poor thing, let me heal you…" Frey lifted a hand to do so but Merlin shook her head.

"No. I want to remain him what he did to me. I know Arthur feels guilt. I want to remind him."

"My dear Merlin, I'm so sorry he betrayed you like that. I'm sorry I cannot even leave this lake to aid you, but I know someone who can."

"Hmm?"

"He sensed your distress and came to meet you."

"Who…?"

"My Lady…" Merlin spun around, looking into the eyes of her friend.

"Mordred." Freya back away and Mordred bowed before her, noting the flowering bruise on her cheek.

"May I touch you My Lady?" He held out his hand, offering, beckoning. She glanced down but nodded and took his hand. Merlin tried to get to her feet only to falter and fall again. Mordred did not smile or laugh or her as Merlin worried. He seemed saddened by it. Mordred knelt before her, hurt shimmering in his eyes.

"My Lady, can you stand?" Merlin shook her head slowly, her cheeks flushing. Mordred bobbed his head to bow.

"May I carry you?" She nodded. Mordred hooked his arm under her legs and the other behind her back. Merlin timidly wrapped her arms around his neck and he carried her away. Freya sunk back into the water.

Mordred did not use magic, or anything to aid his travel. He walked along harsh woodland terrain carrying the witch in his arms. She remained silent and solemn, burying her face in her neck. Mordred did not try to speak with her, cradling her against his taut body. He did not stop or rest until he reached a small but charming cottage deep in the woods, far from, any village or town. It was far from civilization. It was what she needed right now. He opened and closed the door with his magic, settling the distraught, near-goddess, spell caster on his own bed. She blinked, not expecting it to be so soft. Mordred sighed and sat in a chair next to it. He spent nearly five minutes just gazing upon her.

"Are you hungry My Lady, thirsty?" She didn't respond.

"Don't call me that." She whispered at last.

"What?"

"Call me Merlin, not 'Lady', or 'Lady Emrys'. I want you to call me by name." She gazed up at him, their gaze meeting. He reached his hand out tentatively as if he was afraid she would startle like a skittish animal. When she did not pull away, he took it as a sign to stroke her uninjured cheek.

"You do not wish to heal with magic."He stated, running a finger over her bruise.

"I want to remind myself and him." He gently pushed back her sleeves, taking in the nasty bruises decorating her wrists.

"Even these? You deserve better Merlin." She said nothing for a bit.

"I know."

"Why haven't you killed him?" Mordred seethed, trying to reign in his anger.

"I still love him." The silence was worse than any feeling Arthur had felt.

"I'm stupid, right? I still love the prat! I love a man who is married and hits me. I love someone who has his own life and I'm just a bit of fun. I'm his possession while he is my beloved." Mordred embraced her, pressing the sobbing witch hard against him. Arthur's heart was in his throat at the scene. One bit of that was true, yes he was married, but he still loved her with all his heart.

"Hush…."

"I was going to finally get married, to Sir Gwaine. He loved me, and I loved him, enough at least. I could have been happy, and my daughters, my baby girls would finally have someone to call 'Daddy'. I failed them as I have myself."

"You've not failed anyone, Merlin-bird. It is the King who has failed you. " She cried a bit more before Mordred pressed a gentle kiss to her brow, as he had done with Freya.

"Sleep, rest Merlin-bird. You will feel better when he new day comes." She nodded and curled up on his cot, fast asleep. Once he was sure she was dead to the world, he stayed up and spent the night stroking her messy black curls. It was a state of tenderness Arthur had never seen the druid display. The timid, yet frightening, boy had grown into a man. He stayed at her side, ever vigilant until he too succumbed to sleep, his head resting on her thigh.

Morning came swiftly, and Merlin stirred first. She sat up at gazed at the sight of the dozing druid. Her hand went out and shook a little until it rested on his head. Mordred stirred and sat up, looking a little ashamed and a lot flustered. They sat in the uncomfortable silence for a bit before Mordred moved to stand. Merlin reached out and snatched his wrist as a gesture to stay. He sat back down, cocking his head, but his gaze tentative.

"Why are you doing all this?" She whispered timidly.

"Merlin?"

"Why are you so good to me?" She asked, looking up at him.

"You deserve some care after everything you have done for peace." Mordred shrugged, standing.

"Is that all?" A pregnant pause dominated the room. Mordred sat back down.

"No, some of it is my own personal interest in you." He told her, his cheek turning pink.

"What interest is that?"

"I love you, Merlin." She looked away, as if unable to believe it.

"I do, I always have." He insisted.

"Is it because I am Emrys, a god amongst our kind?" She laughed bitterly. Mordred shook his head.

"No, it is your smile, your kindness, and selflessness. That is what I fell in love with. It is your mercy to me, which has given me the strength to fight my destiny. I would do anything to be with you, not even as a lover but a companion. I would allow the bastard king to live if you command it. I would do all but swear loyalty to him, to be beside you." He held her hands in a reverent way, gazing up at her, like she truly was the goddess he believed her to be. His hand slowly approached her face and cupped it. Staring at the two of them, even Arthur couldn't see the difference of age between them. Merlin had not aged in ten years, she was still a young woman in the eyes of many, Mordred was a young man. Their physical ages matched. Arthur had left her behind long ago.

Mordred tilted his head and beckoned her to do the same. Merlin never pulled away or retreated. Their lips met gently, tenderly. Mordred's eyes fluttered shut, Merlin did as well. Their kiss was chaste, no open mouths or dancing tongues. Herr blue eyes cracked a sliver and tears bean falling, Arthur knew why. She had never been kissed like that. Mordred had no expectations, no wishes for her that he intended to enforce. Her kisses from Arthur had never been chaste, never innocent. There were no "just because" kisses, or affectionate caresses. Merlin was a mistress, not a wife. Though Arthur loved her, there had never been innocent touches. His kisses had bruised and always led to his bedroom. Mordred just kissed her tenderly, just to kiss, to show his love. The druid was content with that. When tears fell down her cheeks, he kissed them away.

"Why do you cry, Merlin-bird?"

"No one has ever kissed me like that…."

"Like what? Is it the gentleness you are unused to, or lack or expectations?"

"Arthur, he never….."

"Speak not of him. He has done enough." Mordred whispered, kissing her hair. His arms encircled her and rocked her back and forth.

Later that day, Merlin was walking around again. She sat in different chair and picked up different pieces of information to chat about. Merlin seemed to be doing better. She even began to smile as Mordred put on a little show of sparks for her. Soon dusk had fallen and Merlin stared out the window with a wistful gaze. Mordred put two plates of food on the table and stared at her distant expression. Merlin glanced at the food and at Mordred again. She approached him slowly and made herself busy by straightening his shirt, a habit from her days as a maid. The moment seemed to last an eternity. Merlin's hands caressing his shirt collar and running down his chest gently. Mordred's hand carded through her thick hair. Eventually, Merlin pulled her eyes away from his collarbone, staring into his eyes.

"Do you really love me, Mordred?" She almost whispered.

"Of course." His hand gently cupped her face, giving her power to pull away if she so wished. Her face pulled away, for the slightest moment. Then she met his gaze once more.

"Aren't I too old for you?" Her voice was timid and childish, Arthur was unused to her showing such weakness, she never gave Arthur that luxury.

"Never, six years isn't that much. Besides, you don't look a day over twenty." Mordred insisted, nuzzling her hair.

"I think my belly can attest to the four children I have." She stated bemusedly.

"Nonsense, you haven't aged a day…." Merlin didn't say anything, she pressed herself against his chest, seeking comfort.

"You really love me?" She asked again.

"How many times must I say it?" Mordred laughed tenderly. Merlin didn't respond, then she began tugging at the laces of his tunic.

"Merlin?"

"If you really love me, I want you to prove it." Mordred gently pried her hands away, his brow furrowing as their gaze met.

"Making love isn't the only way." He whispered, Merlin shivered.

"I want to know what it's like to be loved be someone wholly." Mordred's cheeks colored when he realized her meaning.

"Are you sure this is what you want? If I start, I'm not sure I'd be able to stop."

"I'm sure." Merlin tilted her head and meshed lips with him. It was more tender and slow than anything she had ever done with Arthur. It got a little awkward when she kissed a place that was sensitive on Arthur but apparently not on Mordred.

"I'm sorry, I've never….. with anyone other than Arthur." He kissed her gently. The boy-now-man clearly was as experienced as she in some ways, having had more than one lover, Arthur could tell in the slight confidence in his movements. But there was shyness, a reverence for Merlin, for to him, there was no one as valued.

"It's alright, you'll learn, as will I." Then the pair collapsed on the bed to make love. Mordred kissed each bruise and cut on her body and healed them with his magic. They stayed active until the first rays of the morning sun. Merlin fell asleep nuzzling one of Mordred's arms. Once the sun was almost at its highest point in the sky, Mordred stirred. He sat up merely smiling and gazing in awe at the woman he loved so dearly. He gently slipped out of bed, pulled on his trousers and began cooking some breakfast with magic. Then Merlin began to whimper and stir. Mordred immediately halted and sat next to her on the bed, only wearing his breeches. He whispered soothing words, hushing her gently. Then everything changed when Merlin bolted awake sitting upright, shaking like a leaf. Mordred ran his fingers through her hair, hushing her until she got a hold of herself. He got up, eyeing her suspiciously, and unnerved by her silence and went to tend to the fire. Merlin slowly placed a shaking hand to her belly. Her eyes glowed gold for moment before she fell apart. Merlin rolled out the bed quickly, naked at the day she was born and frantically began gathering her clothes and pulling them on. Mordred ceased his action and tried to calm her down as she ran about in her undergarments.

"Merlin, Merlin! What's wrong?" She shook and struggle against his comforting embrace. Merlin burst into tears and started beating lightly on Mordred's bare chest. Soon she calmed and took one of his hands and placed it flat against the plane of her belly.

"I'm pregnant, there's a baby in my belly!" Mordred's face dropped, not sure to be happy or upset.

"Arthur's…..?"

"No, it's yours!" Mordred stepped away.

"Why are you upset then? I love you, you know that." His hands found their way into her hair again. Touching her the way he had the night before.

"You don't understand, if Arthur finds out…. He'll try to kill you, and I'll have to protect him if you defend yourself. Either that or you have to leave!" Mordred stood in silence unsure what to say or do with this new information. Merlin was on the edge of weeping and here was little he could do to save her from the fate destiny had forced on her. Then his expression brightened with hope as an idea came to him.

"Merlin…. Run away with me, we'll get your daughters and we'll leave. It'll be us, you, me and the girls. We can be together; I'll take care of you. We'll never need anyone else, just our little family. I don't care if the girl's are Arthur's they'll be mine by family right. I'll be your husband; no woman will ever be more loved." Merlin relaxed in his grip.

"It's a beautiful dream." She smiled, but then pulled away.

"But it's not one I can have." Her face dropping, unable to meet his gaze.

"Why?" Mordred was almost weeping.

"The minute he lost me, Arthur would never rest until I returned, dead or alive. My girls, they are his daughters, he won't let them go either. We belong to him." Merlin whispered, hopelessness setting in her features.

"You don't! You're practically a goddess! You belong to no one, please, come with me." He grasped her hands and held them to his face, kissing them gently. Merlin's resolve cracked, for only a moment. Then she shook her head again.

"I want to, trust me I do, but I can't." She began to pull away.

"Then do you, do you regret it?" Merlin threw her arms around his neck. She kissed his neck, his cheek and his lips.

"Never. I will never regret what we had, no matter how brief it was. I will never regret having you touch me, when you touched me, I never felt so loved. I will not regret this night, or the baby you gave me. I will love the little one." She cried a bit into his chest and then backed away.

"I wish I could have loved you Mordred, but it has never been my destiny. Goodbye." She dashed out the door still only half dressed. Her feet carried her until she could no longer hear Mordred's heartbroken cries. Merlin stopped and began straightening her clothes. The bruise on her cheek was the only one she had not allowed to heal, so it stood starkly against her skin. Her gaze fell upon the flat on her belly and rubbed it gently.

"Oh baby girl, I'm so sorry. Mummy messed up big time." She passed, tears barreling down her cheeks.

"But don't worry; you'll have a choice some day. I promise you'll see your real daddy and know the truth. It'll be hard to hide; you'll have a druid's blood, a lust for freedom….. Freedom…." Her eyes drifted forward, farseeing, looking into the world before her, wild and free.

"Saoirse, that's what you name will be; for the freedom I promise you'll have one day."

"Mummy promises you freedom, no matter what, my baby Saoirse."

X

Arthur woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur has another vision. I never intended for the chapter to get so long, but apparently my writing does what it wants with no concern for my tired fingers. I'm honestly surprised no one could figure out that Saoirse was Mordred's baby. I thought I had made it too obvious, evidently not. So incase no one got the metaphor of Saoirse being called a cuckoo bird, I'll explain it now. The cuckoo bid is a parasite. The cuckoo lays its eggs in the nests of other birds; the cuckoo will hatch first and roll the other eggs from the nest to destroy competition. The birds who owned the nest will feed the baby cuckoo bird, unaware that it is not their own baby. The metaphor from there would be obvious. The nest was Merlin, more specifically her womb. The baby cuckoo was Saoirse. The bird that laid its egg in the nest of another bird was Mordred. Arthur was the unknowing parent that fed the baby, ignorant of its parentage. Oh and the eggs rolled from the nest was the potential child that Arthur could have sired, in his dream world this child was Balinor.
> 
> So more on the actual chapter. I loved writing Freya in the beginning. The poor kid had a lot of responsibility thrown on her shoulders at a young age. You see her own inner conflicts and reservations on coming back. She knows she and her sisters pose a significant threat, especially now that they have been acknowledged. It was a difficult decision she had to made regarding their return. It was dangerous and perhaps it would have been better if they didn't. But he was still their father. They loved him, Freya and Hunith, despite how badly he hurt their mother. Then there was the flashback. I almost made this a spate chapter on its own because it got so freaking long. It was meant to be shorter but it took on a life of its own. I know it might be a tad unrealistic to sleep with someone right after you were practically raped, but it was Arthur who did it and Merlin basically let him do as he pleased. Mordred was insanely enjoyable to narrate in this chapter. I wanted him to look mature and caring and I think I succeeded. Can you imagine getting the person you love so dearly and having them leave again? Mordred really did love her and when they made love, he did everything in his power to make her feel loved. And Merlin almost said yes to running away with him, woah. I can imagine it was incredibly tempting, but in the end, fighting destiny has disastrous results. Merlin was always meant to serve Arthur. To death.
> 
> X
> 
> Meaning behind the bird nicknames
> 
> Freya-Dove: Bird of peace  
> Hunith-Owl: Bird of Wisdom  
> Raelyn-Kestrel: Bird of prey  
> Agatha-Robin: Bird associated with earthly humbleness.  
> Saoirse-Cuckoo: A parasitic bird known for deceiving other birds into caring for its offspring.
> 
> X
> 
> Haha, I messed up, Uther is older than Aggie
> 
> Name: Uther Pendragon  
> Age: 14  
> Hair: Curly, Dark Brown  
> Eyes: Brown  
> Father: King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot  
> Mother: Queen Guinevere Pendragon of Camelot  
> Aliases: Prince of Camelot  
> Other Skills: Good Diplomat  
> Personality: Very serious, focuses more on propriety and his mother's opinion rather than his father and his sisters.


	11. Chapter 11

The dream ate away at him. Knowing that Merlin had been that unfaithful, that she had been unsatisfied by him, it unnerved him greatly. Part of him was happy that the babe was not associated with him; the other half wondered what it would have been like if the child she bore was sired by him. The worst part was that he realized she had never lied to him. Merlin never told him the child was his, just that she was pregnant. She never said that Saoirse was his daughter, him in his ego just assumed. Everything seemed to make more sense now. Saoirse hated him, how the girls all tiptoed around her, Mordred's possessive behavior. Everything was so complicated. Now more than ever he wanted Merlin back.

Wanted her back.

Saoirse was a necromancer and specialized in séances.

He left the safety of his chambers in armor of silks and gold. He approached the chambers where Saoirse slept. Once he found it empty, he checked the rooms of the other girls and found them in a similar state. It wasn't until he approached Mordred's door that he heard the voices. He knocked with as much force as he could muster, and Raelyn answered the door. The girl was still dressed in leggings and a night shirt, blinking up at him through mussed curls. Once her bleary blue eyes saw him fully, they chilled and hardened.

"What do you want?"

"Only to talk, to all of you, and your Master." The fact that Arthur referred to Mordred as the Master stunned Raelyn alone. He was always reluctant about the relationship Mordred had with his daughters, but Arthur had to talk to them. Raelyn allowed him in. Mordred was dressed along with the oldest and youngest of the girls. Hunith was still changing.

Arthur sat before them, trying to be regal and proper but approachable. Freya sat on a chair next to Mordred, who has Saoirse on his lap. Hunith, now dressed stood behind her sister's chair, her fingers gently resting on the wood. Raelyn and Agatha stood by, Morrighan resting on Raelyn's shoulder, preening her feathers. After several moment of tense silence, Freya tentatively broke it.

"What can we do for you, Father?"

"Saoirse, she's a necromancer."

"We know."

"I merely wished to know, if she ever contacted Mer-, your mother." He felt referring to her so personally would have consequences.

"She can't, Mother is too high." Hunith mumbled.

"High?"

"Mother was a higher being than any other. She was magic incarnate. If Mother wished, she could have torn the world apart and built a new one in a day. She was like a god. And because of that, her place after death is too high for Saoirse to reach yet. She'd spoke with Grandmother, and recently was able to contact Grandfather. Based on your own existence, it decides how far up you are after death. And this only a guess, none of us truly know what waits beyond the grave." Hunith recited.

"I can't talk to Mother, if I could, I would." She sounded almost annoyed.

"I see."

"Why do you insist on pursuing us? We were raised as Master's daughters; we have no need for you."

"Because you girls are all I have left." Raelyn let loose a bark of laughter.

"What about your wife, what about your precious heirs? Do they mean nothing to you anymore?"

"Don't you care for our brothers too?" Hunith added timidly.

"I do, but, they aren't Merlin's children."

"You have no right to say things like that. You're the one who decided you loved Guinevere and married her." Mordred stated.

"It was a mistake."

"You made your bed; you should have lain in it." Mordred shot back.

"Father, Master, please, not in front of the little ones." Freya attempted.

"I'm hardly little, Elder Sister." Saoirse snapped.

"You're little enough to not have to deal with unpleasant things."

"My mother died giving birth to me and my magic allows me to see nothing but death, my existence is unpleasant." An uncomfortable silence followed, at which Mordred stroked her hair.

"You are not unpleasant my little cuckoo bird. We all love you dearly."

"They say there is nothing stronger than family love, and it is blind."

"You shouldn't say such things cuckoo bird."

"Yes Father."

"Forgive me for my intrusion." Arthur started to get up but Agatha rushed over to him and grabbed his sleeve.

"What's all this about….?" She meant to say his name, to address him, but found that she could not decide what she should call him.

"Nothing you girls should worry about. I miss your mother dearly, that's all." He said, barely above a whisper.

"Why do you insist on claiming us? We haven't been yours, ever."

"I was raised with only after to call family he would have done anything for me. He started a war against magic because he thought it would keep me safe. My family was almost entirely wiped out, I learned to value what little I had no matter what. I cared deeply for Morgana, even after her death. She was still my sister and cousin." Arthur explained.

"It's foolish to love and trust those who betray you." Arthur's eyebrow twitched.

"I never said I trusted those who betrayed me, only loved them." Raelyn stepped back.

"I still care for you girls, you are my daughters, you are the daughters of my most trusted friend. I will always love you for that, no matter what you do."

"Even me, King Arthur." All thought stopped when Saoirse boldly stated that. Arthur was wiser enough not answer at first.

"Do you hate me, for reminding you that Merlin was never fully yours as you wished her to be?"

"Do you hate me for saying what is true no matter how it hurts you?"

"Or do you hate me for seeing the truth?" Arthur actually backed up. When witches were extraordinarily upset or angry, their aura pushed you away subconsciously. Nothing touched him, but the feeling she gave off made him want to hide under the covers.

"What truth?" The girl's face twisted into a grim smile. It was far too wicked for the face of a child, but she was Mordred's daughter after all.

"Elder Sister, he still doesn't know the truth."

"Saoirse." Freya warned.

"He doesn't know, he hasn't a clue."

"Seya." Hunith hissed curtly.

"He can't see a truth that a little eight year old girl can." She cackled, skipping gleefully in a circle. Now even Mordred looked apprehensive.

"Don't."

"You don't even know that our mother was murdered!" Arthur's world came crashing down around him.

"Good Morning girls!" Gwaine's voice puncture the tense atmosphere with its cheery nature.

Sir Gwaine had timing if nothing else.

X

Arthur threw his dresser over and everything on it crashed. He gripped a bedpost and nearly collapsed, holding on the fabric on his chest. He couldn't believe it. Arthur couldn't remember leaving the room with his daughters, he couldn't remember the journey to his own chambers. All he could see was red. Who would dare murder his Merlin, and how? She was an immortal, or as close as a human would get. Gods, it was like she had died all over again. Mordred described her as a god to her kin. Who would want her dead? Then his thoughts flew back to the incident from days ago, how Saoirse pointed at Gwen and kept insisting it was her, whatever it meant. At the time it had meant nothing to him. Now it meant everything. Who else hated Merlin? Gwen had everything at her disposal.

Merlin was Arthur's mistress. Gwen hated that fact, hated Merlin, hated her bastards. Gwen was the one who wanted Merlin gone most. He remembered distinctly how subtle she tried to be about being smug after the departure of the girls. He remembered how only a few days before now, Saoirse was pointing at Gwen saying it was her. It had meant nothing to Arthur then but now everything made sense, Gwen's words, Freya's shock and the disdain Saoirse held for Gwen. Was it true? Did Gwen really murder the poor girl? God, he wanted nothing more than to go out and avenge his lover's death. But Gwen made things complicated. Arthur had wedded her, ignorant and unwilling to accept his truth emotions toward the clumsy maidservant. He made his choice too early, and because of that, everyone suffered; especially Merlin and Gwen. Gwen was his wife, he had wronged her, but she turned around and blamed everything on Merlin.

Murdered.

Killed.

Deprived of life.

If it had been Gwen who took Merlin away, Arthur was unsure what he would do. Gwen was still queen, and although Merlin had been favored over her during life, Merlin was now absent. There wasn't a single person who could say Gwen was entirely unjustified either. Any jilted lover or cuckolded spouse would be on her side. Still, Merlin had been well loved by the commoners and adored by the magic users. Arthur knew in the dark of night and the softest of whispers, she was considered the true queen of Camelot, the rightful queen. He also knew some petitioned that his daughter should be the heir, not his sons. But any fears of revolt were unfounded. As much as his younger girls disliked him, they were unshakably loyal as their mother was. And frankly, they had no interest in the throne.

"They can never be yours Arthur, they are only mine."

He remembered trying to convince her to allow him to acknowledge the girls. Merlin shook her head and told him no, never. Arthur wondered how much she knew on her deathbed, how much she didn't tell him. Did Merlin know someone was murdering her? Probably, but she was too sweet to fight it. Or perhaps she was too tired to fight, so many years of dodging rumors and scornful glances. No, that's not right; Merlin would never leave her daughters unprotected if she could help it. Perhaps she knew the events of everything. Perhaps her death was just a sick punishment on him. Perhaps Merlin meant to turn his girls against him, make him lose everything as he had taken from her.

No, that couldn't be right; Merlin wasn't cruel, not like him.

All he could do was lie on the bed and cry. The festering, half-healed wound left by Merlin's death had been ripped open and had felt as though salt had been poured into it. He sobbed into the sheets, begging, as if willing Merlin back into his arms would make it so. He could practically see her, a shy smile and her thick dark curls coiling on his white sheets in stark contrast. She would be naked, bare except for bed sheet and thick pieces of hair. The blanket covering just over her tail bone, her white back peeking from dark locks, she'd be laying on her belly, gazing at him, her fingers fisted into sheets and pillows. Her eyes would be half-lidded from sleep, those bright blue eyes that had captivated his mind from the day they met, staring at him and only him. He missed everything, from her strange, fresh scent that made him think of summer forests, to her somewhat awkward laugh when she was caught off guard.

Merlin his Merlin.

He missed the Merlin that would always attend foreign meetings in other kingdoms, riding beside him no matter what. More than once Merlin had trotted along on horseback, round with child. Those times, she was constantly mistaken as Arthur's queen, and every time, they would whispered to one another once learning Merlin had no husband. Arthur never cared, but he would be a fool to deny the hurt that sometimes occurred in her eyes, a hurt that would stay even as she materialized in his chambers to sleep in his bed. For a short time they belonged solely to each other, there were no Guinevere's, no destiny, no rules, just them and their love. Arthur sat up and wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the chill invading his body. Merlin had always kept him warm.

Merlin.

Merlin.

Merlin.

Merlin.

Merlin!

Arthur was going mad without her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit tougher and it felt like I was just getting through it. I enjoyed writing about pining!Arthur. It was fun. Arthur's thick skull is beginning to be penetrated by the truth. More fun times for this little family ahead.


	12. Chapter 12

Arthur half stumbled out of bed the next morning, intent on talking to Gwen. He didn't bother with a servant to dress him, he went out as if. Arthur ne he must look mad, running about in bare feet, night clothes and mussed hair. As he stormed to his destination, he found himself side tracked to the room that was Merlin's. After her death he refused to allow anyone else it use it for anything. There were nights he'd nestle in the sheets and pretend her scent was still on it. He stood at the door, listening to the current inhabitants, much to his surprise, there was crying, and soothing words. Saoirse, the mini ice queen and psycho was crying.

"Awww, Seya, bad dream again?" Again?

"Uh-huh." She sounded her age for once.

"Who was it?" He heard bed creak as Raelyn's voice joined the conversations.

"A servant boy in the lower town, he as killed for a few pieces of gold." She mumbled. Freya sighed and Raelyn joined.

"I'll look into it, kay? Make sure whoever responsible is punished." Raelyn cooed.

"Thank you Rae." Saoirse mumbled, the bed creaking as she shifted.

"Seya, stop crying please, it breaks my heart." Freya whispered.

"Sister, why isn't Mother here, she's supposed to be here, taking care of us." Saoirse whispered, whimpered even, the rustling of clothes suggested that Freya was holding her baby sister.

"Mother's dead and gone, you know that well."

"But why? Mother never did anything wrong!" Saoirse screeched, on the verge of hysterics.

"She carried on with a married man, which might I add, led to four of us."

"But Arthur forced her!" Saoirse yelped.

"He didn't darling, not completely." Freya attempted.

"He was still wrong!" There was a silence after that, and Arthur heard stirring in the room.

"Girls, what's the matter?" Mordred's voice seeped through the door.

"Forgive us Master, were you sleeping?" Freya tried.

"It matters not, what I wish to know is why my dear child is crying."

"Another nightmare." Freya answered.

"It's not just that Freya! I want Mother! Mother would help me! I want her, Father!" Tiny footsteps patter across the room to where Mordred's voice originated.

"Oh, my sweet cuckoo bird, I know, I want her too. I loved your mother dearly, and she loved me, if only for a night. You were born from that brief, ephemeral love; I know how hard it is to lose." Arthur could hear the girl's tears muffled. Mordred was probably holding her, his daughter.

"Hunith said Mother always used make nightmares go away, I want her, Father."

"I know, I know."

"How much longer must we reside here? I don't want to stay in the place where my mother had murderer is given the highest respect."

Arthur didn't want to hear anymore. He pulled away from the door and continued down the hall, the child's words ringing in his head. It was strange to see the way he viewed Saoirse shift completely when learning she was Mordred's. Now that any ties of blood were gone, he had to admit that the child was right about him. He disliked her for the unpleasant truth she brought about. Saoirse had been a reminder of his utter betrayal of Merlin's trust, now that she wasn't his; she was a reminder of how hurt Merlin had been, enough to go to another man's arms. But Saoirse was wrong about one thing; Arthur didn't hate her, or resent her, but just disliked the child's presence. She was necromancer and during Merlin's day, even she didn't like being in their proximity. She explained that necromancers have an aura about them that attracts the dead and repels the living. Saoirse's sisters seemed to be accustomed to the unnerving aura by now. He remembered another phrase that Merlin used to describe their talents.

"Necromancers only see death, when you kill, directly or not, the stain stays with you for life, they can see it."

"It was her, Sister, it was her!"

Arthur was praying that her sight was wrong.

X

Then what he did the next was to go to Gwen's room. Initially she had been happy to see him, knowing his fury with the girls had yet to subside. Her smile vanished upon his visage. Arthur was mess and he knew it well. The King had not slept at all, haunted by images of a bloody Merlin, reaching for him, crying for him. His hair was a mess; deep circles were imprinted under his eyes. His clothes were mussed and not fitting properly due to Arthur attempting to dress himself. His feet were bare and dirty, but most of all, he looked angry. Gwen took a few steps back, before meeting his eyes again.

"Arthur?"

"We need to talk, Guinevere." Gwen flinched, Arthur only ever used her full name then he was cross or anxious.

"Alright, please, come in." She was shaking, just a bit. Arthur strode past her, but didn't sit in his usual chair. The silence was heavy and uncomfortable. Finally Arthur broke it with a stern stare.

"I'm afraid this isn't a social call, some disturbing things have come to my attention as of late." Arthur snarled.

"What sort of things?"

"There have been accusations that Merlin did not die a natural death." His eyes gauged her reaction. Gwen put on a good mask, but her eyes expressed alarm for the barest of moments. In a way, her calmness was a danger in itself.

"Murdered? She died during childbirth." Gwen said, her eyes beginning to dart.

"The girls have suggested that someone put in her in a state that could kill her during childbirth." Arthur corrected.

"Impossible."

"The youngest girl is necromancer, all they see is death and she of all people can tell the difference between murder and natural death."

"You believe her, the daughter of Mordred over your own family." Gwen asked, her voice transverse into a bitter laugh.

"She is family." Arthur said firmly.

"She's not your daughter." Gwen argued.

"She's Merlin's, that's all I need to know."

"Have you learned nothing!"Gwen roared at him, Arthur stumbled backwards from the shock of it.

"First Morgana, the Aggravaine, why must you trust those around you thoughtlessly. Why did you never trust me and trust a lying sorceress!"

"I don't trust Saoirse implicitly, but I trust her sisters. Saoirse wouldn't lie to Freya, or any of them. If Merlin was murdered, Saoirse would know, and she would tell the others." He insisted.

"So, who would kill you damned, beloved Merlin."

"Someone whom she inconvenienced with her existence. Someone who had the means and the motive to kill her. Someone who knew when a witch is at her weakest." Arthur didn't implicate her directly and go the reaction he wanted.

"Are you suggesting that I killed her?"

"Guilty conscious?" He retorted.

"You're being insane. You're taking the word of an eight-year-old necromancer over your own wife for gods' sake!"

"You've proved before that you might not be trust worthy."

"Because I kissed Lancelot! Merlin already told you it was a spell! I'm only human, Arthur, just like you." Arthur didn't respond, he looked away.

"Not necessarily."

"What?"

"I don't I'm entirely human, Gwen, not like you at least."

"What on earth are you blathering about?"

"Magic runs in my family Gwen. I was conceived using magic, I am magic."

"That's ridiculous."

"Then explain to me why I'm having visions at night!"

"Well obviously your four magical bastards and their bastard half-sister are doing it to you!" Arthur couldn't help himself, he slapped his wife. Gwen stumbled backward from the shock.

"Don't you dare talk about my daughters like that! Even if Saoirse isn't my daughter, she's Merlin's. She's the sister of my daughters! She may hate me, gods above she does, but she wouldn't lie about her mother."

"How the hell do you know? From what you've seen from the girl, she would say anything to make you miserable, she hates you!"

"I know! I know, but this is the least I can do for them, for all of them. That includes Merlin. If there is even a chance that she might have been murdered, I have to see; for her as well as myself."

"Was there ever a time when you valued me very her?"

"Consciously, yes, unknowingly, no."

"She always came first, do you know how that made me feel Arthur!"

"Awful."

"That doesn't even begin to describe it. You always loved her, once the initial rush of hate he had faded into comfort, I could see it. I could see it clear as day. You argued, but you mooned over her. The one time I pulled her hair out of that ridiculous braid you never stopped staring. You only very had eyes for her!"

"Because Merlin isn't a spiteful shrew who would murder another in goddamned childbirth to hang on to a failing marriage!"

"You already believe the cries of an orphaned bastard necromancer. In her time, Merlin didn't even trst them, they practice dark magic."

"Some, not all."

"Defending a child that hates you, this is new, Arthur." Gwen laughed.

"Not everyone lets hate rule their lives and dictate their every motion!"

"What like your father and sister? Like you?" Arthur tensed.

"You let your jealousy turn to hatred; you banished a man because he wanted to marry your mistress!"

"That's different…."

"Is it?"

"I've had enough." Arthur spat. Then he left, storming away.

X

"Father?" Arthur started at the sound of Aggie's voice. The girl was downright terrified of him. There was no question about that. Arthur stared at the child, shifting on her feet in the doorway.

"Agatha, come in, please."

"Aggie, please." She insisted.

"Aggie, welcome."

"You fought with Queen Guinevere." Arthur blinked at her. Her expression is fairly even, a little unnerved though.

"I did."

"We should go."

"What?"

"Freya and Hunith are very attached to you and I respect that, but we're causing trouble. If we stay, everything will fall apart."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Had I not made it clear? We need to go. It was Mother's deepest wish for Albion to prosper. If it were to fall, I know she would come back from the dead just to scold us vehemently."

"Aggie…."

"Freya loves you dearly, Hunith too. Then there's Lohot and I get along with Uther. Rae won't admit it but she loves it here. We all do, Saoirse and Master don't so much, but it holds bad memories for them. We have to go before the whole truth is uncovered."

"Whole truth?"

"Please, Father, I wanted to say goodbye."

"Aggie, I don't want you to go."

"It's a reality none of us were meant to face. We are not meant to be a part Albion's destiny."

"Agatha…."

"You know it and so do we. Mordred and Gwaine will take good care of us. We won't forget you."

"Agatha, I won't let you go, I swear. Nothing will take you from me forcibly."

"Destiny does not take kindly to those who fight it."

"Agatha, destiny will not stop me from claiming what is mine."

"I won't warn you again."

"I'm the Once-and-Future-King; I will not fear something as superstitious as destiny."

"Even if it was Destiny that brought Mother to you to begin with?"

"Destiny led us to each other but it as us who fell in love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So more stuff happens and Arthur's desired dream world is slowly falling apart. So Saoirse is made more human to the reader and you see she's not just needlessly bitter.


	13. Chapter 13

Arthur found himself incredibly unnerved after his conversation with Aggie. They were the daughters of Emrys. The kingdom had flourished since their return. How could they bring about his fall? Like her sisters and her mother before her, she was much wiser than she seemed. Agatha was the second youngest, a mere girl of thirteen years. Yet she had as much wisdom as her older sisters. Arthur would be lying if he said that the girls had never frightened them with their beyond human inner nature. Her words rattled in his head like a haunting song. She stayed firm on her choice to leave; she was going to convince her sisters too. She kept speaking of a fate waiting them if they did not leave.

X

Arthur no longer shared a room with Gwen; he hadn't for a long time. His bed was always empty and cold. It lacked the perfume of magic that was unique to Merlin or the earthy scent of Gwen. He still slept like the dead and late into the morning until he was shaken awake by his latest manservant. This morning he was being shaken awake more severely than usual. Arthur blinked awake, away from a dream with his Merlin, to the frantic face of his manservant. Arthur managed to sit up and muttered a question. After a few minutes the servant's words began to register. When they did, it made his heart sink and grow cold.

"The Queen is dead!" Arthur jumped out of bed and stood over the quivering little man.

"What?" He demanded.

"The Queen, she was found dead this morning in her bed!" Arthur shoved past him, rushing to his wife's chambers. Disputes or not, Gwen was still his wife and he cared about her. He ignored the cries of the servants trying to keep him from the ugly truth lying in the bedchamber. He stormed past them all, moving into the room where Gwen slept alone now. She was sprawled out on the bed, her face contorted slightly. She had suffered when she died. But it was clear she had not been disturbed physically. Coreen was standing at her bedside, holding her hand over the dead queen. She was searching for disturbances with magic. It was clear she had found something based on her expression, but was refusing to believe it.

"Your majesty…." She whispered.

"Did magic kill her?" He asked, his voice wavering. Coreen looked away, unable to move for a moment.

"Coreen." Arthur warned.

"Yes, it was nasty spell that did her in."Arthur tensed.

"Is there any way you can trace the magic?"

"That magic, it's beyond me." Arthur bit his lip.

"Finish examining the body then, come to the throne room. I'm holding court there and we'll see who did this. Do your best to trace." Arthur said dismissively.

X

Arthur sat on his throne in all his regal glory. His hands were trying not to shake; his wife had just been murdered, just like his mother, with magic. His son Lohot stood with him while Uther was crying in his rooms. Freya stood by his side as well. Freya dressed like princess, stood regally as her brother and father if not more so. Hunith was also at her side. They all stood stiffly in light of the recent events. Queen Guinevere, the suspected murderer of Merlin Emrys was dead. Her own death caused by magic. Coreen came into the room, her head bowed and her frizzy red hair overshadowing her plain eyes and face. She stopped as she stood before Arthur on his throne. The throne next to him was absent, the throne for his queen. The court was filled with just about every inhabitant of the castle.

"Coreen, what are your findings?"

"The Queen was killed by a very harsh curse."

"What is the nature of this curse?"

"The curse is meant to inflict great pain, to torment the victim with their darkest and most painful moments. It is meant to cause them pain just short of driving them mad. Then it kills them." Arthur stiffened; Gwen had been so brutally killed.

"There is something else, your majesty."Coreen continued.

"Yes?"

"It was dark magic, but the spell originated among the druids." Coreen reported, her eyes flitting to Mordred, Saoirse, Raelyn and Agatha where they stood together. Guilt filled her plain features.

"What are you suggesting, Court Sorceress?" Freya snapped. Her body stiffened.

"I am suggesting that only those with knowledge of druid magic would know such a spell. It inflicts the mind and causes mental battle." Freya drew herself up even taller, carrying the regal blood of her father and mother.

"Is that your only evidence, Coreen?" Freya snipped. Coreen paused. Freya wasn't done.

"With all due respect, you once served my mother and with great loyalty as well if I recall correctly."

"That is true, My Lady."

"I'm sure, like many have heard the rumors of the Queen being responsible for the death of my mother."

"I have heard rumors."

"Is it true that you believe this greatly, because it was Queen Gwen who asked you when a witch can be killed with mortal means?" Freya asked, stepping down from her place at her father's side to stand at the level of Coreen.

"With all due respect, Lady Emrys, this is hardly the time." Coreen attempted.

"No, I want to hear what you have to say, continue."

"It is true."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her…."

"Yes?"

"A witch is at her weakest during and immediately after childbirth." Coreen answered. The daughters winced. Arthur sighed heavily.

"Perhaps, when it became clear why the Queen had asked you that so many years ago, you felt responsible to avenge your Mistress."

"Your Majesties, this is not why I have said this. I did not kill her!" Coreen sobbed. Coreen fell to her knees and all but crawled ton the feet of Freya.

"Please, My Lady. I admit the Queen did ask such things of me, but I did not know of her intent until it was too late. I swear it, Lady Freya; I served and loved your mother dearly! Please, I swear, I did not kill the Queen. Even if my loyalty to Lady Emrys came first, I swear I would never harm the queen!" She wept into the hem of Freya's red dress. Freya knelt and pulled the witch to her feet.

"I believe you, I needed to be sure."

"Oh, My Lady."

"Bu I refuse to believe that my Master or my sisters were involved with this murder."

"My lady, you have greater power than I. Perform the trace, you can do it." Freya nodded. Coreen handed her the lock of hair containing the curse. Freya nodded and accepted the hair. A couple of apprentices brought Freya tools to perform the spell. Freya drew the necessary marking on the floor, pooling herbs and powders in certain spots. Then came the crystal. Arthur glanced up when Hunith nudged him.

"Though Freya specializes in healing, she out of us shares the same powers of mother. She might be the strongest of us, though we suspect similar things of Saoirse." Arthur nodded his gaze falling back on his eldest child. He watched as she ran her hands over the symbols and powders, whispering the sacred words under her breath. The crystal floated and Freya cupped in her hands, it hovered and span as she continued chanting, her eyes steadily gold. Freya stood, the trance of her state overcoming her senses. The crystal spun and spun. Finally it ceased and Freya followed its path. Arthur watched her walk across the throne room.

Straight to Mordred and the young daughters.

Freya started to falter but shook her head to remain focused. She walked forward biting her lip until the crystal pointed to Mordred who held Saoirse in his arms. Freya looked up at him, her gaze betraying her thoughts. Mordred did not turn away or look guilty. He returned her gaze steadily. Freya dropped the crystal where it crashed. Freya brought her hands to her mouth, shaking her head rapidly. She was muttering, Arthur couldn't hear her but he could see the desperation of her features. She backed away.

"No, no, please, tell me you didn't. Master please!" Mordred did not so much as flinch. He reached out and stroked her face.

"Master, please…." Mordred slowly let Saoirse down who was shaking her head rapidly too.

"Take care of my little cuckoo bird, won't you? My sweet dove, will you do this thing?" Freya snatched Saoirse against herself.

"Master." Arthur stood, he had enough.

"Arrest Druid Master Mordred." Mordred did not even resist as the guards came upon him. Arthur walked in front of him.

"Mordred…. You have your daughter to look after why would you do this?" Gwaine hissed next to him, who was clinging to Raelyn and Agatha. Mordred never broke eye contact with Arthur.

"That woman killed my Emrys. Do you know how Arthur?" Arthur did not dignify him with a response.

"She didn't even have the guts to do it herself. Once learning that a witch is weakest in childbirth, she threatened a midwife, no more than a mere girl to kill her. One small cut was it took. A well placed cut during childbirth would kill a woman. During childbirth a witch has no magic to spare, not enough to heal themselves if something went wrong. Because of this, Gwen conspired to kill my Emrys, in the jealous rage of woman."

"Master…."

"Father!" Saoirse screeched fighting against Freya.

"I don't regret it." He said casually as the men led him away.

X

"Please, Father, let him go!"

"You know very well I can't do that, Freya." Freya shook violently and fell to her knees, weeping.

"How could he do this to us?" She screamed.

"Freya, darling, Mordred is a troubled man. He knows not what he does. Mordred only saw revenge; revenge for the one he believed was his. He didn't care about how it would affect you and your sisters." Freya slapped him.

"Don't you dare tell me he doesn't care!" She screamed. Arthur stumbled backwards, holding up his hands.

"Freya!" He exclaimed.

"Don't say that! Mordred loved us; we were his children for intents and purposes! There was not a day that passed in which he didn't give us the best of everything! Mordred kissed our scrapes, tucked us in at night, told us stories of Mother, he gave us hugs and quieted our nightmares. Whether you like or not Father, he was and is our father, even if it was only association. He raised us for eight years, you've never raised us."

"Freya, please," Arthur reached out for her but she swat his hands away.

"No, I refuse to believe this is cut and dry. Mordred loves us; he would never leave us if he could help it! If anything, he would sooner blame someone else so he could keep us. He's selfish that way, but at least he acknowledges what he wants and moves to grasp it." Arthur opened and closed his mouth like a fish.

"Which is more than you do."

"Freya."

"Sorry, that's exactly what you do, except you hurt a lot more people in the process." Arthur snapped and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her.

"Don't say such a thing, you know nothing!"

"Why did you make me? Why did you make any of us, with her, with Mother? You made your choice, you married Gwen! Why did you sire us, knowing we could never call you Father, knowing we would be mocked and Mother along with us? I love you, Father, but you've hurt me more than anyone else. They're all right! I will never be given honor as your child, never loved by relatives or acknowledged by nobility!"

"Freya please!"

"Do you think I don't know how I came about? How we all came about! I do, because Hunith told me! I was conceived on a bedroll the eve before the battle, like something from a sappy romance story! Hunith was conceived on your throne, with my Mother being treated like some bedwarmer! Raelyn was conceived in the armory and Agatha in the middle of the woods. Saoirse was the only one of us conceived in a goddamn bed like legitimate children are! She isn't even your daughter, and her conception was the only one with any respect for my mother or her honor!"

"Freya, I, I uh…."

"I don't want to hear anything from you!" Freya screeched like a banshee and ran off, crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwen is dead, the queen is dead! She was murdered by magic, just like Igraine! Holy crud, so much drama! Mordred has been accused, but did he do it, did he not? Was this his plan all along or did he have other thoughts in mind. We also get to see Freya's attachment to Mordred and her own resentments against her father. Hurrah.
> 
> Name: Saoirse Emrys  
> Age: 8  
> Hair: Black, Straight  
> Eyes: Blue  
> Father: Druid Master Mordred  
> Mother: Lady Merlin Emrys of Ealdor  
> Aliases: Youngest Daughter of Emrys  
> Other Skills: Necromancy  
> Personality: She's very dark and morbid for someone of her age. It's due to her nature as a necromancer and the melancholy from being born from death. She has no full blooded siblings, only half-sisters. She never knew her mother but sees her eldest sister as such. She is cold to everyone except her immediate family.


	14. Chapter 14

The spat with Freya affected him more than Arthur would like to say. Freya had always been on his side, looking to him first. She had harbored, rightfully, so much resentment against him. Arthur, her natural father, caused her more pain than anyone. So much of what she said was simply right. Arthur had disrespected her mother and due to his position, he unable to keep her safe. Arthur remembered so clearly, eight years ago when Mordred showed him the fate that awaited her if she stayed in his care. Arthur, the king of goddamned Camelot, couldn't protect his own daughter, legitimate or otherwise. Mordred had been the only man who treated her as a father should, except for maybe Gwaine. Arthur like his father was driven half mad by being unable to lavish affection on his child. His father had a reason, an alibi to dote. Arthur had no such luxury. While Uther had taken in the niece of his late wife when she was orphaned, Arthur attempted to take in bastard girls that everyone knew were his.

That night he dreamed again. But it was no vision of the past, future or present. It was something else all together.

It was late in the woods and he stood tall, in his nightclothes. It was middle of the night and he was far from the campfire but he didn't feel chilled. He's no warm or cold. The night sky clear and the moon is full. He can only stare in wonder at this strange clearing in the middle of the woods. Not for the beauty and serenity of the night, but for the company. Sitting by the fire, with fire highlighting the features, sits Merlin, his Merlin. Her eyes slowly moved over to him, examining his features. Arthur could only stand still and stare as Merlin smiled softly. Arthur stood stock still as she stood and smiled at him, with such a sparkling happiness, Arthur felt weak in the knees. Merlin was as beautiful and fresh as ever, no age had touched her fae-like features. Her dress was long and dark blue, teasing him with a view of her shoulders and collar bone. A white shawl, whiter than snow was wrapped around her shoulders.

"Hello Arthur." She greets him as if they had only seen each other earlier that day. Arthur approached her and his knees did give out. Arthur knew he looked a lovesick fool, but couldn't bring himself to care. Arthur knelt before her, his arms wrapped securely around her waist, and his face buried in the belly that had nurtured his daughters. He wept like he hadn't allowed himself in so long. They were tears of joy, and the soft petting of Merlin's hand, only made the tears come on stronger.

"Is this another dream? If it is, by the gods don't wake me up!" Merlin smiled at him.

"It is, and it isn't."

"Are you real, are you the real Merlin?"

"I am, but this is a dream. It's easiest to contact you this way." Arthur mumbled incoherently, pressing himself further to her belly.

"Arthur, stand, please, there are things we need to discuss." Arthur slowly got to his feet, his hands never leaving her. Arthur tried to listen, he really did, but that familiar expression on her face, the one his own dreams could never truly replicate, became far too real. Arthur pressed their mouths together frantically. His arms clamped around her, clutching with every fiber of his body. Merlin submitted to his touch and even responded for a bit then gently pulled away.

"I have missed you dearly, I won't deny it. But this is not why I have come to you."

"Then why?"

"Gwen is dead." Merlin answered simply. Arthur tensed.

"Is this going to be a long talk?"

"It could be." Arthur sat down by the fire on the found and held her hand.

"Sit on my lap. I will listen, I swear, just let me hold you." Merlin hesitated but the complied. She settled into his lap, Arthur tugged her against him. Arthur inhaled her scent, enjoying ever moment of her sturdy yet frail body against him. She was just like he remembered, but better. Her weight was comforting, the way their bodies so easily fit together, divine.

"I have missed you desperately, Merlin."

"I know Arthur, I know." Arthur nuzzled the underside of her jaw but she pushed him back.

"We have to discuss this Arthur."

"Gwen is dead, Mordred killed her." Merlin was oddly silent.

"I know what happened."

"Merlin, I have to know, was it true? Did Gwen really kill you?" Merlin paused for what seemed an eternity.

"Yes." His grip tightened, which would have left bruises, had she been alive. It was a rather sobering thought.

"Did you know before?" he croaked. Merlin nodded.

"She was to be my death."

"Damn it, Merlin, why didn't you say anything!" He yelled in her hair, causing her to stiffen.

"I was meant to die before my time Arthur."

"Why, we were supposed to be together forever!" He whimpered.

"Saoirse."

"The brat?" Merlin drew away and glared.

"That's my baby girl you're talking about." Arthur sighed, nothing to do then.

"What about Saoirse?"

"We were never fated to be together in one life. Saoirse has to be a necromancer, her destiny is not as potent as mine but she is fated to play a big part in Albion's future. Her powers….."

"Merlin, what does Necromancy have to do with you and her able to be together?"

"Just like there are two types of magic users, there are two different types of specializations. The difference is the same, there are those that are capable but must study and work for it, but other have it come naturally to them as breathing. Certain factors must be present for certain types of witches and warlocks to be born." Arthurs tongue burned with the unspoken question.

"What's the pre-requisite for a necromancer?" Merlin said nothing for a bit then spoke solemnly.

"A parent must die." The words chilled him to the bone.

"But your death was unnatural!"

"It was, but she wasn't the reason my body reached that stage of weakness, her body was soaked in the vital blood, the bare necessity I needed to survive. She was bathed in the fleeting remnants of my life. She witnessed death as a newborn; my lifeblood was her baptism bath. Saoirse came through death." Arthur shuddered.

"You never would have lived."

"Not necessarily, if Gwen had not made the decision to kill, the child would not have been Saoirse, or the soul that she holds."

"The soul?"

"I am Emrys, the personification of magic, I am magic itself. There are few souls as old as mine. Yours is one that comes close, Saoirse is another. I am life, she is death. This was one of my first lives, it isn't hers or yours. Saoirse and I are connected through love and resentment. She was meant to be born my child, born from my death like a phoenix. Though admittedly, there was a slim chance I would live, with her birth. My magic might have been strong enough without Gwen's interference."

"Merlin, you are light magic, she's dark, how, Mordred?

"Like everything, Necromancy is not inherently good or evil. It just is. I will not lie that it is darker magic and being born into it, your carry a taint. It is easy to succumb to the taint and go mad and let the darkness own your soul, you must strong to resist it. Saoirse is my daughter, she is strong."

"Do you love her?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I love her." Merlin whispered, rapping him on the head.

"Gwen did kill you though."

"Not by her own hand, a few well placed bribes among the midwives was all it took."

"Saoirse said she carries the taint."

"She does. When someone makes the conscious decision to kill and carries it out, you carry it on your soul. But all of this is not why you are here."

"Yes, I'm here to talk about Gwen's death and Mordred's sentencing."

"That's right."

"You don't think I should kill Mordred."

"It doesn't matter what I think, you should look from Freya's point of view."

"He killed my wife!"

"Mordred has a lot of flaws, I would first to admit it. But remember, Mordred is borderline obsessive over my daughters, our daughter, he would nothing to endanger their relationship. You're not a fool Arthur, open your eyes and see."

"What do I need to see?"

"This is one thing that has never changed, Arthur, you don't see. You look but see nothing! This was why you never saw the truth; you never see it because you don't let yourself!"

"Merlin….." She drew away, hearing something he could not. Merlin stood up and stared at the sky. Arthur clasped her hand, trying to hold her back. Her shawl fell onto Arthur's lap.

"I can't stay much longer. You have to look and see to find the truth. Nothing is ever simple, remember that." She whispered. He shook his head.

"No, Merlin, please don't go again." Arthur pleaded. She smiled sadly.

"I'm sorry, they're calling me back. You'll see me again one day. Be happy, my love."

"No, no….."

"Merlin!" Arthur sat up straight in bed. He was alone and in his room again. The world suddenly felt very cold and empty. Then he felt something warm on his lap. On his lap rested a snowy white shawl, still warm from her skin, Merlin. He clenched the fabric and brought it to his face. It was still perfumed with her elegant scent.

"It was real, by the gods, it was real."

X

Arthur encountered an interesting situation early the next morning. He had just been walking to the council room. It had started faint then got steadily louder. Arthur used his hunter skills to sneak his way down the corridor until he found the source of the sound. There stood Freya, looking a bit haggard with grief and worry, but still beautiful. In front of her was Saoirse and she was being difficult. Even though she wasn't Arthur's daughter, he still cared for her. Freya was shouting at her, grabbing firmly onto her wrist and the child thrashed against her. Freya's hollers devolved into quiet hissing. Her grip on her sister's hand remained steady and firm, but she kept thrashing.

"You don't understand anything Freya!" She shrieked with some ungodly sound coming from her throat.

"Saoirse!"

"I hate you Freya!" The child broke away and dashed down the hall passing Arthur. She spared a nasty glare before continuing.

"Saoirse, get back here!" Freya came dashing after her, not even seeing him.

Things were getting odd.

X

Arthur knew he had to see the prisoner once before he was ultimately condemned. Mordred was sitting quite calmly in the middle of the dungeon. Magic canceling cuffs adorned his wrists; he did not seem the least bit frightened. When Arthur approached the bars, he smiled mildly and said nothing to him. Mordred remained in his spot, seemingly meditating. Mordred gazed at him with such a bemused expression Arthur wanted to strangle him through the bars. Mordred reclined a bit and smiled up at him.

"So, my sentence giver comes to visit, hm?"

"Why did you kill Gwen?"

"She killed my beloved. She killed my goddess and lover."

"I'd hardly call her your lover."

"Oh really, Saoirse is not evidence of how, thorough, I was?"

"Shut up."

"You probably don't like thinking of how I tasted her, the same way you did and she loved every moment of it. Merlin told me no one had ever been so attentive to her wants and needs. How does that feel, Prince Prat?" Arthur grabbed the bars.

"Why is everyone telling me you should be spared?" Arthur snarled.

"Did Freya and Saoirse ask this of you?" Arthur didn't answer at first.

"So you admit you did it."

"You should already know the answer."

"Then why?"

"A girl will always love her father, by blood or association."

"You don't know anything."

"Being the father for five girls for eight years means nothing, hmm? Did Merlin not care for Gaius?"

"Shut up, Mordred."

"I really should, I have nothing to say to a bastard that broke the heart and soul of my beloved."

"She wasn't your beloved."

"Oh, then she shared my bed for sport?"

"Bastard, she wanted comfort and from you for some bizarre reason."

"Because I provide the thing you never could."

"Oh, and what is that?"

"Comfort at any cost. You never saw beyond he needs of your kingdom and their thoughts, even at the expense of those you loved most. I'm not afraid to pay any price for the ones I love."

"You….."

"That's all I have to say. Kill me if you need to, if your kingdom needs to, but no one can ever say I didn't take care of my daughters."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Mordred love/hate. Saoirse has a conflict with her precious big sister. Arthur and Merlin meet again for the first time in eight years. Lots of drama ahoy. Originally Merlin and Arthur were never going to meet, but one reviewer commented that with all her power, Merlin should be able to contact Arthur. I agree, but even saying that, there are lines that Merlin can't cross in nature. Hence her time with Arthur was limited. BTW if Merlin had been attended to by an experienced healer she MIGHT have survived Saoirse's birth, I mean with Gwen and all. We're getting towards the end here guys….. I'm running out of people to kill off.


	15. Chapter 15

Arthur snuck into the adjacent room. He was in the Kingdom of Mercia, serving in peace conferences. With him was his ever faithful servant, Merlin. She stood beside him during talks and negotiations, giving her own advice, whispering in his ear. Now night had fallen on the palace. All that was left floating through the halls were servants. Arthur couldn't bring himself to care if any saw him sneaking into the room of his young advisor. Merlin was already asleep, or so she seemed. Her long dark curls were spread over the pristine white pillows. Arthur crawled into the large bed and knelt over her. He sat on top of her legs, laughing to himself when she didn't so much as stir. Arthur bent down to plant kisses on her neck and collarbone. She stayed asleep stubbornly and Arthur growling in annoyance against her skin. Then she couldn't hold back anymore, she giggled and cracked one eyes to look at him.

"You little minx." She stuck her tongue out at him. Arthur responded by nipping it.

Then they kissed.

Arthur woke the morning of the execution. His heart felt heavy with doubt. Mordred had admitted to being Gwen's murderer, boasted of it even. What else could he do? Too many had pleaded for his life, Freya had, and Merlin contacted him from the other side. They all pleaded to spare someone who confessed. Arthur had lived through enough betrayals to know when something is not nearly as simple as it seems. Nothing in this world was black and white, nothing easily understood. Arthur wanted to scream at the world for being so confusing. Nothing had been simple for him since the day he was born. Nothing, family, love, politics, everything was an elaborate game that would kill him with one misstep. But this was his life; this was his fate, his responsibility. Arthur never went lacking for food, warmth or entertainment, his basic necessities were always more than provided for. But this is his burden to be the one to carry out the deaths of criminals.

Arthur dressed with the help of his latest servant (they never lasted more than a month with him). His crown was feeling heavier than ever before. He walked down the deathly quiet halls. The silence was broken by a child's screams. Saoirse, no doubt, was not allowing this happen without a fight. Arthur found them around Merlin's old chambers, now Freya's. Freya was restraining the girl, who was shouting about going to the execution. Freya told her no. This caused the child to scream louder and throw a hissy fit. Freya took her hand to escort her to Mordred to say their goodbyes. Freya was wearing one of Merlin's old mourning dresses; her sisters were also appropriately dressed. Arthur would not judge them for it. If they could do nothing to save their father figure, they should at least be allowed to show their mourning.

Arthur slightly ashamed of himself, followed them down to the dungeons. The girls remained entirely composed for the trip down. Mordred greeted them with all the enthusiasm he could muster. The guard opened the door muttering about having ten minutes to say their goodbyes in private. The guard left and the baby of the sisters broke down into tears. Mordred held her in his arms, soothing her with quiet words and gentle touches. Freya was trying to stay firm, but she could not hide the betrayal and pain in her eyes. Mordred touched her cheek, and while she submitted to the gesture, she clearly stiffened away.

"I'm sorry, Freya."

"You're not."

"About what you're thinking of, yes, I'm not sorry. I am sorry for having to leave you and your sisters so early." Freya said nothing but Rae and Aggie were not about to stand down.

"Father, please don't do this! Don't leave us like Mother did!" Aggie wailed, clinging to his robes.

"Damn it, Father, I know you can get out of this! Don't just lie down like Mother did!" Raelyn grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

"My Kestrel, my Robin, one day you will see why I have done this, and I pray you understand. Know I have done this because I loved all of you and would refuse to let any one of you come into harm's way." Mordred reasoned. Mordred stroked Saoirse's hair as she sobbed into his chest.

"I can't let you do this Father!"

"I know, that's why I won't let you stop me." Mordred whispered tenderly. He put a hand to the child's brow, effectively knocking her out without an uttered spell.

"I love you, My Little Cuckoo Bird." He whispered gently, kissing her brow.

"Your time is up, sorcerer." A guard spat as the door opened. Mordred smiled cockily at the guard.

"Don't insult me, I'm a warlock, born and bred." The guard poked him with his spear and Mordred swatted it.

"I don't need your assistance to walk, mortal." Mordred snarled. He turned to Freya.

"Look after her for me, My Dove, look after all of them. Will you do this for me?" Freya nodded. Freya took a limp Saoirse into her arms. Mordred smiled and stroked Freya's cheek.

"I love you, darling." Freya bit her lip and nodded. Before Mordred could move away, Freya bent over and kissed his cheek.

"I love you too, Papa." Arthur bit his lip, his heart thumping uncomfortably. Mordred smiled, pressing his forehead to hers.

"And here I thought you never would call me that again. Be good and take care of your darling sisters." Freya nodded tearfully. Mordred was led away, Freya called out once more.

"I still trust you Papa, we all do." Arthur couldn't watch anymore.

X

Arthur felt far too like his father. He stood on the executioners block, determined to be standing on equal ground with the prisoner. The sword was in his hand, he would carry out the sentence. Mordred walked up to him, proud of himself, without a doubt. Mordred glanced at the daughters of Emrys, who stood together. They were standing together, Gwaine stood behind them, his expression dark for Arthur. Arthur couldn't help but shoot Gwaine a helpless look. Arthur knew there was something wrong about this too. But his hands were tied. He was king it was his job to protect everyone and Mordred murdered Gwen. He had to execute Mordred what else could he do? So he fixed his eyes on his soon to be victim.

"Druid-Master Mordred, you have been accused of murdering the Queen of Camelot, Guinevere Pendragon. Do you deny these claims?"

"You should know my answer."

"You leave me no choice."

"You're too stubborn to see anymore."

"By the laws of Camelot that I am obligated to uphold, I sentence you to death." Mordred smirked.

"Any last words."

"I love my daughters, and I hope you burn in hell for all you have done, Arthur Pendragon." Arthur refused to hear any more as he swung Excalibur to end his life. With the blade, Arthur cut his doom away from him. Mordred was dead, his murderer, the one fated to kill him. He was gone, but at what price? Arthur could only bear a glance to his girls. Freya and Hunith were heartbroken. Raelyn was filled with rage that could burn stone. Aggie just wept and Saoirse had been catatonic in her big sister's arms. It was over, but at what end?

X

Arthur knew he would never sleep through the night again. The horror and betrayal on his daughters' faces was etched deep into his mind. Even if they understood his reasons. They would never forgive him for taking away their true father. Arthur slumped into a chair with his paperwork. His crown was on one of his tables, on the other side of the room. The gold was winking at him, mocking him. Had he really sacrificed his family for his kingdom? Mordred had said such things and while he had wanted to ignore everything Mordred said, it was true. Everything he had done, he had done for his kingdom, damn his friends and family in the long run. Merlin had done the same, at her own expense. She had always cared for those around her. Merlin made time for her daughters, her lovers, found a way around her work to make both work. Arthur treated his own loved ones to no such luxury. Arthur rubbed his temples. It was the dead of night and the last thing he wanted to do was sleep and ream of Merlin, disappointed in him.

The door creaked open, Arthur jolted to look over and saw a woman in the doorway. Crap, he was probably asleep and dreaming of Merlin again. The woman walked into the room, Arthur had no doubt it was Merlin. Her dark hair was elaborately braided in druid fashion, covering her ears and decorated with white flowers, water lilies. Her blue eyes were rimmed with kohl. Merlin was dressed entirely in white, in the garbs of a druid bride. She stood still for awhile, watching him, shifting back and forth on her feet. The sleeves draped over her hands, the fabric glowing in the night. Arthur noticed a silver sash dangling out of one sleeve. It was used in hand fastening, he though to himself absently. Merlin just stood there, not saying a word and Arthur was beginning to get unnerved. Then she moved into the room, walking silently, and her bare feet peeking from beneath her skirt. She stopped before him, her expression even.

"Arthur…"

"Hello Merlin." Her eyes flickered. She opened her arms and sat on his lap. Her arms twined around his neck.

"Hello my love."

"You haven't come to punish me?"

"No…." Her words kept trailing. Something was wrong, Arthur couldn't say what though. Then he felt something cold against his back.

"Goodnight…." Arthur threw her off and Merlin fell on her butt, her hair unraveling. Now Arthur saw what was wrong, this woman looked a lot like Merlin but she was definitely different. Her hair was straight and her ears didn't stick out as much. Arthur saw a knife in her hand.

"Who are you?" He demanded, reaching for his sword.

"Your death." She replied calmly, getting to her feet. Arthur watched in slow motion as she charged him, the guards rushed in. She turned in surprise and a guard stabbed his spear through her right breast. She collapsed onto the ground as the spear was removed. Arthur is surprised when the Not-Merlin stayed kneeling, but coughing blood. Then Arthur heard an ungodly screech. It reminded him of that day eight years earlier, when he delivered the news of Merlin's death. Standing in the doorway is Freya, looking horrified. Her hands were against her mouth, looking anguished.

"Saoirse!" Arthur stumbled back and the guards did so too. She rushed into the room and caught the woman just before she collapsed completely. Arthur watched in horror as the veil of the woman's disguise fell, leaving an eight year old girl with straight black hair in her wake. Freya sobbed while holding her as she coughed up blood on hr druid wedding garments.

"Saoirse, why?"

"Arthur killed Father, I couldn't let that stand."

"Papa killed the queen! Father couldn't do anything else."

"You still don't get it Freya. Father didn't kill that shrew, I did." Freya froze, staring stiffly.

"The crystal was pointing at me when he was carrying me. You thought I could never do it. Sister, I'm a necromancer, I know the ins and outs of death. I killed her once I was sure she killed mother. A life for a life." Freya started to sob, holding her closer.

"No, Saoirse….."

"You still love me?"

"Of course I do."

"Why? I killed your step mother."

"You're still my sister, and I love you." Arthur walked over and put a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged him off.

"Saoirse….."

"I'm okay with dying trying to murder that damned son of a bitch. It's okay." Her eyes drifted shut. Freya screamed again.

"No, it's not." She whispered. Freya placed a hand on the now oozing wound. Freya eyes glowed gold as she began to chant under her breath. Arthur noticed and tried to get her attention, consumed in his alarm. Whatever she was doing, it couldn't be good. A force field pushed him and his guards back. Arthur heard the pattering of bare feet. He turned to see Raelyn, Hunith and Aggie, stand in his doorway, their hair still mussed from sleep. Hunith let loose a howl of distress. She tried to run to her sister. The force field pushed her back too.

"Freya, don't, please Frey!" Freya stopped chanting and looked at Hunith over her shoulder, a sad smile on her face.

"I'm sorry, I have to, I'm the big sister." Light filled the room, blinding the inhabitants temporarily. When the light left Arthur saw Freya cradling Saoirse. Saoirse slowly opened her eyes; the hole in her chest was repaired without scar. Arthur grabbed Freya's shoulder and wrenched her around. When he did she coughed and blood started dribbling out of her mouth. Blood was pooling of her right breast, she smiled at Arthur and fell. Saoirse got a hold of herself and saw Freya, panicking internally. Saoirse grabbed her, shaking her frantically.

"Elder Sister! Frey! No! No! It was supposed to be me! I was supposed to die, not you! You're Mother's heir! No, take it back! Don't die! Please!" She was openly sobbing as her sister had only moments before, the blood of her mouth and clothes now dry. Hunith and the other approached to her as well. Hunith put her sister's head on her lap to make it easier to breathe. Saoirse curled up against her uninjured side, sobbing all the while. Aggie and Raelyn held each of her hands. They all whimpered and cried, trying to be there for their sister in her last moments.

"Shh, it's okay Little Sister. You are supposed to be Mother's heir, Hunith told me so. You have to live on, you are meant to. I did this because I love you, and I have to protect you. I love you, all of you, my sisters. I love you too, Father. It's okay, I can hear Mother's voice, and I'll be with her, watching over all of you. Be happy, my…" She said some other things but they were too choked with blood to be understood. Herr mumbled dissolved in labored breathing her eyelids getting heavier. Soon her eyes closed, never to open again. Then the witches, her sisters, opened their mouths and let loose their banshee cries. They cried for their lost sister, their song of death rattling through the whole castle. Arthur could only stand there numbly, he could not move. Suddenly he felt weak, and his knees gave out from underneath him. The guards had retreated to the doorway, giving the family space. They watched their king kneel numbly, tears dripping without his notice; he was too shocked to speak, to cry to mourn. Arthur watched fate take another loved one away; he watched his world fall apart a little more with each death.

His Mother.

His Father.

His Sister.

His Lover.

His Wife.

And now his oldest child.

How many more deaths until the guardian of the next world was satisfied. How many lives of those precious to him would need to be paid before his father's debt was fulfilled. For all the lives his father took, Arthur now paid for in spades. Arthur couldn't even register the stiff form of his daughter, unmoving, covered in blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tons of stuff happened this chapter. Mordred dies, Saoirse tries to kill Arthur and reveals she's the one who murdered Gwen. Saoirse is stabbed and Freya gives her life to save her little sister.


	16. Chapter 16

They left the next morning. What else could they do? Saoirse had tried to assassinate him, the king, there was nothing left. Unless his remaining daughters wanted to give up their half-sister, they had to flee. Hunith was now the new Mother figure of the group, and she left with a heavy heart. Arthur begged Gwaine to go with them. He wanted them safe, and Gwaine went without need of asking. Arthur watched them leave in the dead of night, in despair. There was nothing he could do. He knew this would be the last he would see of his daughters. Arthur gave them horses and enough supplies for a month. Now he could only wish the best for them. Arthur watched the procession leave on their horses, through the gates. His heart broke more with each horse that vanished into the woods. He noticed that Hunith lingered, for only a few moments before getting herself together and following her sisters. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard a silent goodbye. Arthur straightened himself, and turned to his room. He needed to sleep. More funeral arrangements were needed on the morrow.

X

Freya was buried the same way as her mother. She was placed on a boat full of flowers on Avalon. She was dressed in deep blue, silver and white, her family colors. Arthur made sure she was laid to rest on a bed of red and gold flowers. Freya was always considered an Emrys but Arthur wanted every attendee and the gods themselves to know that she was a Pendragon also. The men placed the boat in the river, preparing for her farewell. Arthur took a moment to stare on the face of his eldest child, his first baby girl. An eerie sense of familiarity settled into his bones at the situation. He ran his hand over her too pale cheek and into her dark brown curls. Freya had always been the best blend of the two of them. Not too much Merlin, nor was there too much him. After a second thought he removed his own cloak and draped it over her legs, just like her mother eight years earlier. She was Pendragon by birth; she deserved all the honors that went along with it. Arthur kissed her clammy forehead and pushed the boat into the water. Arthur himself let loose the arrow that set it aflame.

It was over.

She was gone.

Somewhere in his mind, he saw Merlin and Freya playing in a field.

X

Year after year passed in his life. Each was empty, the seasons long and torturous. King Arthur's life had become a routine. Every moment was dull and lacking color. His kingdoms survived and stood steady on all its legs, but not prospering per say. He was too miserable to carry on and yet he did each day. Not a moment passed when Arthur did not think on his lost loved ones. He thought of his parents, killed by magic, foolishness and madness. He thought of his lover, killed by the scorn of another. He thought if his wife, killed by vengeance. Now he thought of his daughter as well, killed by self-sacrifice. Arthur knew he should move on, he was still fortunate. Arthur was king of a wealthy kingdom, two healthy, trueborn sons. His remaining three daughters lived and with luck were happy. But the emptiness was too great to ever be truly happy. It started with the death of his other half and was driven home with the death of his daughter.

His son, his Lohot, still carried himself with the lost of his almost-twin. He was strong and he would be a good king. His son was a man now, his broad shoulder and strong chin holding himself with pride. Arthur was still strong, but his face was wane and his hair now more grey than blonde. He looked much older than his fifties. Arthur moved more like a spirit than a man these days. His world had died when Merlin did; the loss of his daughter again was just more than he could take. He wanted to die, he wanted to die and join Merlin but suicide was cowardly and he refused to cut his own life short. Arthur had become his father in some ways, falling into deep depression over losing a daughter. Arthur was tired; he wanted it to be over, he wanted to sleep forever. Arthur returned to his chamber setting his crown on a table. He lamented at the cost of the crown, how it cost him those most dear. So lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the figure sitting in his chair.

The figure was tall, thin and female. She was sitting in Arthur's fur draped chair, facing the fire. The girl was hardly older than her teens, her hair, long black, straight and sleek. Her eyes were an enchanting shade of blue and her skin whiter than snow. She looked familiar yet foreign. The girl was dressed in blue, silver, and white, contrasting her natural coloration beautifully. When he noticed her, she looked up at him, no surprise or shock visible.

"Hello Pendragon."She greeted evenly.

"Saoirse." Arthur sat in another chair, sitting to her side.

"I'd say it's a pleasure, but this clearly isn't a social visit." Arthur chuckled. Saoirse did not move to affirm or deny his claim, so much Mordred. Arthur had been fooled several times because of that, the reluctance to affirm or deny. She just sat still and stared in that eerie way of hers.

"How are Gwaine, and your sisters?"

"Fine. Gwaine is getting older though." Curt and to the point. Clearly no conversation was desired on her end.

"I'd imagine." He said a last.

"My sisters have all become fine witches." Arthur and his once-thought-daughter sat in silence.

"Are you here to kill me?" Saoirse didn't move, not even remotely unnerved.

"Yes."

"I se. I was wondering when you were coming back for me."

"Well, here I am." Arthur smiled sadly.

"It's strange, I was supposed to die at your father's hand."

"You are, just more indirect than originally thought. Father was supposed to bring about your death; he did that through siring me."

"Of course, the man will never leave me be, even after death."

"Don't expect him to. It's foolish." An awkward silence reigned between them. Arthur grew sad.

"Is it going to hurt?"

"You've accepted your fate then?"

"I welcome it."

"Welcome?"

"Dear child, I'm tired. I have lived a life full of loss and despair. My son can succeed me well. I miss Merlin, I'm done with this life. I'm ready to move on." Saoirse watched him pointedly.

"It won't hurt, you killed my father, but he died for me. I am angry, but death will be enough. There will be no pain. It will be like falling asleep."

"That's good." Arthur said genially. Saoirse clearly had expected a fight, if the staff at her side was any indication.

"Are you ready?" Arthur stood up and walked to his bed lying down on it.

"Yes." Saoirse followed him, holding her staff in her left hand. She approached him and laid a hand on his forehead.

"I'm sorry, truly, for everything you have had to endure." There was brief flicker in her expression. Normal people would not have caught it, but being Merlin's lover and best friend for years made him susceptible to the subtle signs of the Emrys women.

"I know." She out a hand to his forehead.

"Good night, King Arthur." She placed a cool hand on his forehead and he slowly fell asleep.

Arthur opened his eyes and found himself lying in a beautiful field, glowing with pure light. He heard a soft voice calling him. Suddenly his vision was filled with dark curls and white skin.

"Merlin, gods how I've missed you." He whispered, accepting her embrace.

They found the King of Camelot the next morning. He looked as though he were asleep. It was the first time King Arthur had displayed a smile in a very long while. They find him lying still, in his ceremonial garb. Arthur clutched in his hands, a pure white shawl and a faded, red neckerchief. After so much heartbreak and tragedy, he was at peace.

X

King Lohot sat on his throne, his young queen, a fair lady sat beside him. Standing at the bottom of the steps was a young lady. The lady was the same age as him, sharing some features. Her hair was light brown, lightest of her siblings, full and half; her eyes are big and blue, lips full. She stood dressed modestly, like a druid traveler. Her smile lit up the room as magic pulsed through her veins. Her long hair was braided down the back of her head.

"Your Majesty, King Lohot of Camelot; I stand before you, humbly offering my services to the crown." The queen snorted distrustfully. Lohot however stood up and approached her. The woman drew away briefly before the King captured her into a hug.

"Welcome home, Big Sister." Hunith smiled and returned the hug.

"It's good to be back, Little Brother."


	17. Chapter 17

Dreams carried her to a place very far away. It carried her to a castle standing majestically against a blue sky. She stood among the people. Her clothes were loose and flowing. Her under dress was white, outer tunic blue. A red neckerchief was wrapped about her neck, keeping it warm from the brisk wind. Her hair was as long as dark as normal, twined into a thick braid. She stood in then courtyard, arms empty of burdens that everyone else seemed to have. Flags flew bright red against the sky with golden dragons sewn into the cloth. In front of her, amongst the crowd, a golden man stood. He smiled at her from across the courtyard, dressed in armor and blood red cloak. His hair was the same shade of gold as the crest he bore. Her feet started to carry her to him. His feet carried him to her. They stepped and stepped until they met each other. His hand reached out, garbed in gauntlet and caressed her cheek. He leant down and she stood on her toes. Their lips met sweetly. It just felt so right, it tasted of destiny…..

"Merlyn Ambrose!" Merlyn tumbled out her bed, falling to the ground. She looked up blearily to the face of her mother, Helen.

"Merry, you have to get up; you'll be late at this rate." Merlyn blinked stupidly before jumping up in a flurry to get ready. Helen sighed as her daughter hopped about trying to pull on her uniform. Merlyn grabbed her backpack and dashed into the hall. She topped briefly by the Army photo of her father, Bernard and pressed a kiss to her fingers and her fingers to the glass. She paused another moment to straighten the medals on the frame.

"I'm going, Daddy." She flicked her hand and her hair wove itself into a thick braid.

"Merlyn!"

"I know Mum, no magic!" She shouted back dashing through the kitchen. She grabbed a slice of toast before barreling out the window, ignoring her mother's indignant yelling. She passed her Uncle Gaius getting in the car to start his work at the local clinic.

"Do you need a ride dear?" He called after her. Merlyn removed the toast from her mouth long enough to say no thank you and hurried to the bus stop. She stopped right before the end of the road, feeling a chill down her spine.

"Merlin…." An ancient, but young voice rang on the wind. Merlyn stopped and looked about frantically. Her home was situated in the woods on a lone dirt road. The forest crept into her nerves whenever she dashed to the bus stop. She shuddered as she heard footsteps echo on the trees and rocks.

"Merlin….." Merlyn shuddered again. She was not MER-lin, it was MARE-lin. Whoever was calling her was getting her name wrong.

"There you are." Merlyn spun around to see a figure before her.

The woman standing in front of her only looked a bit older than herself. Her feet were bare and dirty, she was garbed in blue so dark it almost looked black. The dress was old and looked like it came from some medieval fair so something. Her cloak was a dark forest green, the same color as the pine needles of the trees. Yet it was not her unusual dress, or her lack of shoes that made Merlyn fear for her sanity. The woman had a face almost identical to her own. They shared too many features for Merlyn's liking. Their eyes were the same size and shade of blue, though this woman's eyes were narrowed and coy, almost….. Her ears were definitely smaller, a small part of Merlyn grumbled about this. Her nose, her mouth, all the same, they even had the same skin tone and hair color. The most significant difference was the texture of their hair. Merlyn's hair was famously curly and unruly as a rule. This woman's hair was straight and sleek, a bit ragged at the ends but still extremely lovely. This woman had a haunting beauty, the beauty of serene graveyards and desolate ruins. Merlyn couldn't know where the comparison came from, but it stuck all the same.

"It's been hundreds of years; it is good to finally meet you, Mother." Merlyn reared back, the woman was insane.

"I'm not your mother; you must be older than I am." The woman pulled a face and shifted. Merlyn spotted a staff that had been hiding in her cloak.

"But of course, I have been waiting for you to come back."

"You're insane!" Merlyn yelped, silently chastising herself for lack of sense. Who calls someone insane out on being insane? Stupid idiot like her, that's who. The woman's face saddened. She wasn't angry. That much Merlyn thought she could be grateful for.

"So you really do not remember. I know it has been hundreds of years, but I have been waiting so long Mother." The woman stretched out her arms, as if asking for a hug. Merlyn spied the staff in her hands and backed up further. The staff was made of black wood was an ivory carving on the top, covered in carved vines. It looked like a small human skull with vines grown over it.

"Mother…" Merlyn backed up, praying for her uncle to come driving up the road. Seeing her expression, the woman dropped her arms, looking forlorn.

"Waited so long and now I have scared you. I am sorry." Merlyn didn't respond, just prayed the woman to retreat to the woods.

"So sorry, but at least heed my words."

"Words…."

"The Pendragon heir will bring you nothing but pain. I know I've frightened you but listen well. Stay away from the Pendragon boy; you will die from his cruelties on the end." Merlyn blinked owlishly at her. Then she heard the sound of the bus arriving and driving away. She turned around to see it leave without her. Merlyn stopped and looked back, the woman was gone. Merlyn stood there stupidly or about seven seconds before deciding to dash after the bus and hope to catch it.

Merlyn dashed to the end of her road, swearing at the sight of the bus going along without her. She sighed, cursing her brain for magic induced visions; at least that was what she thought. Merlyn turned around to ask her mother for a ride when a horn honked behind her. She jumped a foot in the air. She spun on her heels to stare at the blessing and bane of her life, Arthur Penn. There was the arrogant jerk sitting in his expensive open top car. Next to him was Merlyn's former best friend, Gwendolyn Smith, also known as Gwen. In the back seat was her current best friend, Morgan Fay, Arthur's cousin and sort of step sister. Next to her sitting on the middle seat was the foster/step-brother of Morgan, Mortimer. Arthur laughed at her jumpiness obnoxiously. How she hated him! But how she loved him too. That was the aggravating thing about her sort-of childhood friend. She had loved him all her life and he turned away from her. She was an idiot for following him and helping him time after time but she couldn't help it. So Merlyn ignored Arthur and waved to Morgan and Mortimer.

"Need a ride, Merlyn?" Morgan asked.

"No way am I letting Ambrose into the car, Morgan. She'll get the seats dirty, can you see the last time she cleaned her uniform. I'd say never." Merlyn chucked a pebble at him. Gwen smiled apologetically, but didn't stick up for her. So Merlyn looked at Morgan again. Mortimer gazed up her with puppy eyes; the boy was besotted with her after all.

"I could really use one, yah." Mortimer scurried to the door on her side and opened it for her. Merlyn smiled at him and he smiled back. Merlyn slid in.

"Oi! What part of 'no way' didn't you get Morgan?"

"Oh shut up Artie, before I show your dad your secret stash." Morgan told him flippantly. Arthur spluttered.

"What?"

"Please, you couldn't hide anything if you wanted to." Merlyn giggled and Morgan joined in. Arthur rolled his eyes and drove off to school. Merlyn looked out the back and saw the woman again, shaking her head slowly. A word appeared in Merlyn's mind, a name, and it was one she would not forget for all her days.

Saoirse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the story ends. Merlin meets her daughter but doesn't know her and the cycle begins again. Sort of. I really enjoyed writing this and hope everyone else did too. It was sad but sweet at certain times, so I thought it was nice. I might be writing a sort of sequel for this, considering it. It would be Modern AU so there would be some changes but we'll see after my finals are over. I've started two spinoffs where Mordred and Gwaine each get Merlin so those should be coming along too. This is probably the third time I've actually written for Merlin and the first time from her perspective in the story. Wow. So I can' think of anything else to say. There are fanarts for this story on my deviantart, my name is cosmicstarempress and I posted the first chapter there too. Thank you for reading everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, Merlin is female, but the plot is relatively the same for the Merlin series thus far. Arthur romanced Gwen and married her but later on started an affair with Merlin. There will be more on that later on. There will be some GwaineXMerlin and older!MordredXMerlin, but again that's later on. It's going to be fun, because Merlin is the driving force of the story despite being dead. So, I'll work hard. I'm trying my best to edit but there will still be a few mistakes, so….. sorry. I'm trying my best really. The more reviews I get, the faster new chapters will come out because they inspire me. Especially because about eight or nine chapters have been roughly written and I just need to edit them. It will be updated on a weekly basis most likely, but perhaps more often depending on review amount.


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